THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

LIFE  IN  ALASKA 


r.vl 


^N 


The  heart  of  Alaska   in  winter 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A 
SOURDOUGH 

Life  in  Alaska 

BY 

MAY  KELLOGG   SULLIVAN 

Author  of  "A  Woman  Who  Went  to  Alaska" 


RICHARD  G.  BADGER 

THE  GORHAM  PRESS 
BOSTON 


Copyright  1910  by  Richard  G.  Badger 


All  Rights  Reserved 


THE  GORHAM  PRESS,  BOSTON,  U  -S.  A 


SOURDOUGH  DEFINED 

While  the  word  Sourdough  (sour  dough) 
is  perfectly  familiar  to  those  in  Alaska  and 
along  the  Pacific  Coast  it  may  not  be  amiss 
to  give  a  brief  explanation  to  our  Eastern 
readers. 

A  Sourdough  is  a  miner  who  has  spent 
one  winter  in  Alaska  and  "has  seen  the  ice  go 
out."  Mrs.  Sullivan  is  a  Sourdough  herself. 
In  all  she  has  made  seven  trips  to  Alaska  ex- 
tending over  a  period  of  ten  years. 

When  miners  are  beyond  the  pale  of  civ- 
ilization, with  a  supply  of  flour  but  no  bak- 
ing powder,  yeast  or  potatoes,  they  cut  from 
each  batch  of  bread  dough  a  little  piece,  to 
be  kept  until  it  turns  sour,  and  then  used  as 
leaven  for  the  next  baking. 

It  is  through  this  custom  that  the  miners 
themselves  came  to  be  called  sourdoughs. 


I 


PREFACE 

little    book    is    my    second 
Brain-child.     The  first,  entitled 
"A    Woman    Who    Went    to 
Alaska,"  has  been  so  cordially 
received  by  the   reading  public 
that  I  have  been  induced  to  send  another  in 
its  footsteps.     It  is  with  great  pleasure  and 
perfect  confidence  that  I  do  this. 

To  my  Alaskan  readers  it  is  unnecessary 
to  state  that  these  little  tales  are  deduced 
from  every  day  life,  as  they  are  easily  recog- 
nizable. To  those  not  yet  favored  by  a 
residence  in  this  Northland  I  would  say 
that  I  have  written  each  tale  with  a  well  de- 
fined purpose.  With  truthfulness  could 
each  one  have  been  more  vividly,  yes  start- 
lingly,  told;  but  I  have  no  wish  to  unduly 
disturb  my  readers.  It  has  been  my  aim, 
however,  to  picture  not  only  character,  but 
also  the  vast  and  wonderful  gold  producing 
region,  so  plainly  that  even  the  young  may 
better  know  Alaska,  and  learn  somewhat 
from  glimpses  of  the  trials,  privations  and 
successes  of  its  early  pioneers. 
5 


PREFACE 

To  these  last  Trail-blazers  no  "Chee- 
chako"  can  ever  do  justice.  Their  courage, 
bravery,  patience  under  difficulties,  and 
stoicism  under  severe  trial  can  never  be 
properly  appreciated  except  by  their  fellow 
sufferers. 

My  readers  will  find  in  the  book  much  of 
the  folklore  and  a  touch  of  the  mysticism  so 
common  to  all  people  of  the  northland. 

Counting  myself  one  of  the  least  among 
them  I  have  been  a  witness  to  their  struggles 
and  triumphs,  and  for  this  reason  I  do  most 
heartily  dedicate  this  little  book  to  the  mem- 
ory of  each  horny-handed  pack-laden  miner 
"musher"  who  has  ever  lifted  a  finger  to 
assist,  encourage,  or  strengthen  the  author 
of  The  Trail  of  a  Sourdough. 

The  name  of  these  helpers  is  Legion. 
That  their  cabins  may  be  warm  and  roomy, 
winter  dumps  high  and  numerous,  sluice 
boxes  filled  with  nuggets,  and  lives  long  and 
happy,  is  the  earnest  wish  of 

MAY  KELLOGG  SULLIVAN 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

/     The  Miner's  Reasons 1 1 

//     Under  the  Tundra 22 

///     The  Hidden  Ledge 44 

IV     A  New  Klondyke 81 

V     Estella  the  Eskimo 106 

VI     Why  Midas  Failed 132 

Vll     The  Old  Stone  House 172 

Fill     A  Miner's  Own  Story 192 

IX     Ey lien's  Water  Witch 214 

7 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page. 
The  Heart  of  Alaska  in  Winter,  .frontispiece 

A  Huskie 21 

Dressed  in  his  fresh  miner's  rig 25 

A  welcome  shelter 43 

The  scene  on  shore  was  a  repetition  of 
that    on    the    neighboring    beach    at 

Skagway    51 

A  Messenger  of  cheer 80 

Panning  out 105 

Upon  his  mother's    back,    beneath    her 

parkie    115 

The  little  one  clinging  tightly  to  her  hand 

she  approached  the  door 121 

The  pretty  woman  was    a    full-blooded 

Eskimo to  face  page  138 

Poling  up  the  river 171 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page. 

When  Old  Tillie  was  Young 181 

She  scanned  the  horizon,  .to  face  page  216 
"Holy  Mother  Mary!  I  believe  it's  gold"  223 

Father  Peter 229 

The  Lord  of  the  Northland 258 

The  cover    design  is  a    picture    of    Cape 
Nome,  Alaska. 


10 


The 
Trail  of  a  Sourdough 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  MINER'S  REASONS 

A  FURIOUS  blizzard  was  raging. 
Six  or  eight  miners  of  various 
ages  were  huddled  around  the 
stove  in  a  little  road-house 
where  they  were  likely  to  remain 
storm-bound  for  several  days. 

"Chuck  some  more  wood  into  that  bloom- 
in'  fire  and  fill  up  my  pipe  if  you  fellers  want 
a  yarn  from  me,"  said  one,  when  they  had  be- 
sieged him  for  a  story  with  which  to  pass  the 
time. 

"You  wanted  to  know  yesterday  when  I 
staked  that  claim  for  the  woman,  who  and 
where  she  is,  also  my  reasons  for  stakin'  it; 
and  I  promised  to  tell  you  when  I  got  the 
chance.  One  or  two  of  you  grumbled  consid- 
erable at  my  stakin'  for  a  person  away  in  the 
States,  and  maybe  when  I  have  finished  my 
story  you  won't  feel  any  different ;  but  I  can't 

help  it,  and  it  is  none  of  your business. 

II 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

The  deed  is  done,  and  well  done,  and  Rosa 
Nell  (that  ain't  her  name,  as  you  can  see  by 
the  initial  stake  if  you  want  to  dig  it  out  from 
under  the  snow)  is  the  half  owner  today  of 
one  of  the  handsomest  quartz  ledges  on  the 
whole  Seward  Peninsula.  Walls  of  grey  slate 
and  trachyte,  and  the  yellow  stuff  is  good  and 
plenty.  Zounds,  boys  !  I  wish  I  had  a  bump- 
er," and  the  speaker  threw  his  furry  cap  to 
the  ceiling. 

"Never  mind  the  bumper,  pard,  you  know 
it's  the  last  of  March  when  no  live  mining 
camp  in  this  country  has  a  thing  but  empty 
bottles  to  bump  with.  Behold  the  size  of  the 
glass  dump  outside  yonder  if  you  don't  believe 
me",  remarked  the  keeper  of  the  place  in  vin- 
dication of  his  house ;  but  with  sore  regret  in 
his  voice. 

"The  story,  the  story!  We  want  the  story", 
sang  out  one  and  another  by  the  stove,  "the 
fire  is  just  a  whoopin'  and  'twill  soon  be  goin' 
out". 

"Well,  then,  here  goes,"  said  the  miner  ad- 
dressed. "It  happened  two  years  ago.  I  sold 
one  of  my  Nome  claims  for  fifteen  hundred 
dollars  with  slight  prospecting,  (like  a  blasted 
fool  that  I  was)  and  after  blowin'  in  a  good 
12 


THE  MINER'S  REASONS 

third  or  more  of  the  money  concluded  to  buy 
a  thousand  dollar  outfit  and  go  to  Norton 
Sound.  It  was  late  in  October;  the  storms 
came  on,  and  the  upshot  of  it  was  that  we 
were  ship-wrecked  off  the  coast  and  were  final- 
ly put  in  at  a  small  camp  nearly  a  hundred 
miles  from  where  we  wanted  to  winter.  I  had 
taken  two  men  with  me  named  Long  and 
Hartley,  and  though  we  saved,  by  hard  fight- 
in'  in  one  way  and  another,  the  most  of  our 
supplies,  we  were  without  shelter,  except  a 
couple  of  tents,  with  an  Arctic  winter — our 
first  in  this  country,  upon  us. 

"Gee-Whilikins !  Boys,  it  makes  my  black 
hair  white  to  think  of  it !  What  we  suffered 
for  two  months  in  those  tents  was  awful;  for 
the  camp  was  full  and  there  was  not  a  vacant 
cabin  anywhere.  If  there  had  been,  you  know 
we  were  absolutely  without  money  to  buy  or 
build  with.  How  I  cursed  myself  for  havin' 
foolishly  spent  hundreds  of  dollars  on  'box 
rustlers'  at  the  Casino, — but  that  is  another 
story,  boys,  so  we'll  pass  it. 

"In  our  new  camp  we  had  many  Eskimos 

and  all  kinds  of  people.    Among  others  there 

was  a  little  blue-eyed  woman  perhaps  thirty 

years  of  age;  maybe  more — maybe  less.    She 

13 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

was  also  evidently  not  where  she  had  intended 
to  be,  just  like  ourselves,  but  was  a  teacher, 
left  over  from  some  stranded  expedition, 
probably.  Anyhow,  there  she  was,  and  there 
we  were.  We  a-livin'  in  the  tents,  and  the 
thermometer  forty  degrees  below  zero.  The 
teacher  was  stayin'  with  some  of  the  Mission- 
ary folks  only  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  and 
she  was  all  right. 

"In  December  the  dogs  of  the  camp  began 
to  go  mad.  Every  few  days  one  or  two  had 
to  be  killed.  Some  men,  you  know,  don't 
water  their  dogs  once  in  six  weeks,  if  at  all, 
and  as  everything  is  froze  hard  in  winter,  the 
poor  brutes  go  mad,  exactly  as  in  summer  in 
the  States,  from  heat. 

"One  night,  Long  and  I  smoked  in  the  little 
road-house  close  by,  but  Hartley  went  to  his 
bunk  in  the  tent  and  turned  in.  He  had  not 
slept,  but  lay  with  closed  eyes,  he  said,  tryin' 
hard  to  get  warm  under  his  fur  robe;  when 
the  tent  flap  was  brushed  aside,  and  in  rushed 
a  mad  dog,  snapping  and  foaming.  At  the 
first  movement  Hartley  supposed  we  had  re- 
turned to  go  to  bed,  but  was  instantly  unde- 
ceived as  the  crazy  brute  made  directly  for 
him. 

14 


THE  MINER'S  REASONS 

"Hartley  threw  out  his  hands  and  leaped 
from  his  bunk,  seizing  an  axe  that  lay  upon 
the  floor.  With  that  he  made  for  the  dog, 
and  finally  drove  him  from  the  tent;  but  only 
after  he  had  been  badly  bitten  in  several 
places. 

"The  first  we  knew  he  rushed  in,  half 
dressed,  where  we  were.  He  was  pale  with 
fright,  covered  with  blood,  and  his  eyes 
seemed  starting  from  their  sockets. 

"  'Whiskey,  for  God's  sake!'  he  pleaded, 
panting  for  breath.  'Hydrophobia,  and  so 
far  from  home.  This  is  hard  lines,  ain't  it, 
boys?'  between  gulps,  the  blood  dripping 
from  the  hand  that  tremblingly  held  the  glass. 

"With  that  he  broke  down  utterly  and 
cried  like  a  baby.  We  washed  and  dressed  his 
wounds  as  best  we  could,  and  put  him  to  bed 
in  the  road-house  as  it  was  then  past  midnight, 
while  three  of  the  boys  rigged  themselves  in 
their  furs  and  hunted  the  blasted  brute  that 
had  done  the  mischief.  They  found  him 
gnashing  his  teeth  alongside  an  outhouse,  and 
a  good  dose  of  cold  pills  settled  him  forever. 

"Next  mornin'  we  sent  a  man  to  the  little 
teacher  to  ask  for  medicine  for  Hartley,  and 
immediately  she  and  another  woman  came 
15 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

over.  They  brought  lint  bandages,  car- 
bolic acid,  and  other  things  and  bathed  the 
wounds;  but,  best  of  all,  they  cheered  up 
the  poor  fellow  by  telling  him  that  he  need 
have  no  fear  of  hydrophobia,  as  the  bite  of 
the  Eskimo  dogs  in  winter  does  not  have  the 
same  effect  that  the  bite  of  other  dogs  has  in 
hot  weather.  By  the  repeated  visits  and 
ministrations  of  the  women,  poor  Hartley, 
in  a  few  weeks,  recovered. 

"However,  the  little  teacher  was  not  sat- 
isfied. She  knew  we  must  suffer  terribly  in 
our  tents,  and  wanted  us  to  make  other  ar- 
rangements. At  last  she  thought  of  a  plan 
for  us:  An  old  log  school-house,  long  since 
deserted  for  the  new  one  built  near  by,  was 
unused  except  as  a  store-room.  This  build- 
ing had  been  originally  made  warm  and 
tight  by  moss  chinking,  a  heavy  door,  and 
closely  caulked  windows.  Some  of  the  lat- 
ter were  now  broken,  and  the  snow  sifted  in 
upon  the  dirt  floor,  but  these  things  could  be 
remedied. 

"The  little  woman  had  planned  it  all  be- 
fore we  knew  it.  She  had  asked  and  gained 
consent  of  the  owners  before  she  opened 
her  story  up  to  us.  The  baggage  then  in  the 
16 


THE  MINER'S  REASONS 

cabin  was  to  be  piled  in  one  corner,  the  win- 
dows were  to  be  mended  as  well  as  possible 
along  with  the  chimney  in  the  middle  of  the 
roof;  and  for  a  trifling  consideration  each 
month  we  were  to  have  the  use  of  the  build- 
ing. It  was  a  god-send  to  three  men  only 
partly  sheltered  by  canvas  in  January,  lati- 
tude sixty-five;  and  if  you  don't  believe  me, 
boys,  just  try  tents  yourselves  next  winter, 
and  find  out. 

"Did  we  spend  the  remainder  of  the  win- 
ter in  that  old  school-house?  You  bet  we 
did.  After  puttin'  considerable  time  on  the 
old  chimney,  makin'  some  new  stove-pipe 
and  a  patent  damper  of  our  own  from  coal- 
oil  cans,  and  usin'  the  sides  of  some  of  the 
same  in  place  of  glass  in  the  windows,  we  did 
get  fixed  some  sort  of  comfortable.  Any- 
how, we  had  a  house  over  our  heads  that 
could  not  blow  down  in  a  blizzard,  and  a 
solid  door  which  kept  out  mad  dogs  at  night. 
To  be  sure,  when  the  spring  rains  came,  the 
roof  of  turf,  upon  which  the  grass  began  to 
grow,  leaked  in  several  places;  but  we  spread 
our  canvas  tent  over  it,  weighted  it  down 
with  stones  at  the  corners,  and  got  along 
finely. 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"The  gist  of  my  story  is  still  to  come.  One 
day  along  in  February  the  little  woman  sent 
for  me.  She  wanted  to  see  me  very  particu- 
lar, the  messenger  said.  When  I  saw  her  a 
few  minutes  later  her  eyes  were  shinin'  like 
stars  in  the  night  time.  She  wanted  me  to 
go  with  another  man  to  stake  a  creek  about 
fifteen  miles  to  the  north  of  us.  She  had 
heard  from  some  source  that  the  creek  was 
good. 

"Would  I  go  the  next  day  if  she  furnished 
the  outfit?  Of  course  I  said,  yes,  and  our 
plans  were  hastily  laid  for  the  next  day.  We 
had  some  trouble  to  get  good  dogs  for  the 
trip,  and  before  our  preparations  were  com- 
pleted the  whole  camp  was  onto  our  racket 
and  wanted  to  go  along. 

"Now,  you  know  on  such  occasions,  above 
all  others,  one  does  not  want  the  whole  coun- 
try at  one's  heels,  so  we  tried  our  best  to 
shake  them.  We  postponed  our  trip  until 
the  second  day;  the  women  in  the  mean-time 
gettin'  our  grub  cooked.  We  then  took  the 
bells  off  our  dog  collars  and  packed  our  sleds 
behind  closed  doors;  but  it  was  no  go.  In 
spite  of  all  our  precautions  three  dog-teams 
followed  our  trail  as  we  slipped  stealthily 
18 


THE  MINER'S  REASONS 

out  of  camp  at  mid-night.  The  moon  shone 
brightly  and  the  snow  was  not  too  deep. 
The  boys  kept  at  a  respectful  distance  be- 
hind us,  and  we  mushed  along  between  low 
hills  mostly  up  the  streams  on  the  ice. 

"To  make  my  story  shorter,  we  staked 
what  we  wanted  of  the  creek,  and  let  the 
other  fellows  in  on  what  was  left.  After 
that,  without  sleeping,  but  with  a  hasty  meal, 
we  put  back  home  again  as  fast  as  our  dogs 
would  travel. 

'Three  months  later,  when  the  snow  was 
about  gone,  and  we  thought  the  time  ripe  for 
prospectin',  I  took  my  two  men  and  an  out- 
fit and  gave  that  blamed  old  creek  a  fair 
trial.  We  hustled  and  rustled  to  beat  the 
band.  We  shovelled,  panned,  built  dams, 
and  worked  like  beavers  in  water  above  our 
knees.  We  moved  our  tents  further  up  on 
the  bank  at  midnight  at  the  risin'  of  the 
creek  durin'  a  hard  rain — but,  egad!  after 
two  weeks  of  that  sort  of  thing,  no  gold 
could  we  find.  Not  a  color!  We  cursed 
and  tore  around  something  fierce  among  the 
Queen's  English,  but  it  did  not  help  matters 
a  particle. 

"There  was  no  gold  there. 
19 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"When  we  reported  to  the  little  woman 
she  would  not  believe  a  word  of  it.  She  did 
not  think  we  had  tried  to  find  it.  Perhaps 
we  had  not  gone  deep  enough.  We  should 
have  waited  until  midsummer  when  we  could 
have  done  better  work;  and  a  lot  of  other 
things  of  like  description.  When  I  insisted 
that  we  had  done  the  very  best  we  possibly 
could,  and  that  there  was  positively  no  gold 
there,  she  still  persisted  in  sayin'  she  wanted 
that  bunch  of  claims  recorded.  In  vain  I 
told  her  it  was  no  use;  the  creek  was  no 
good,  and  to  record  the  claims  was  a  waste 
of  money. 

"While  I  talked,  the  little  woman  stood 
lookin'  in  an  absent-minded  way  before  her. 
When  I  had  finished  she  turned  toward  me 
with  considerable  spirit,  and  almost  with  an- 
ger said,  the  tears  comin'  into  her  eyes  mean- 
while, 'I  will  never  again  ask  you  to  stake  a 
claim  for  me,  so  there !'  and  she  ran  into  the 
next  room  and  shut  the  door. 

"The  claims  were  never  recorded. 

"Well,  boys,  she  kept  her  word,  and  I  wish 

she  hadn't.    I  would  be  willin'  to  let  her  pick 

out  creeks  for  me  forever,  for,  say,  let  me  tell 

you,  fellows,"  dropping  his  voice  and  taking 

20 


THE  MINER'S  REASONS 

the  pipe  from  between  his  teeth  he  knocked  its 
ashes  out  upon  the  cold  hearth,  "that  creek 
bed  was  solid  stream  tin;  pure  cassiterite,  the 
best  on  the  Seward  Peninsula,  and  a  whole 
fortune  for  anyone;  but  we  did  not  know  it. 

"Next  time  a  woman  like  that  one  tells  me 
to  do  any  recordin'  of  claims  I'll  do  it,  you 
bet;  for  somehow,  I  can't  explain  it,  but  there 
are  others  besides  Eugene  Field's  kids  who 
are  good  at  'seein'  things  at  night,'  and  a 
woman  can  sometimes  feel  things  that  we  fel- 
lows can't  see  in  broad  daylight. 

"Now  you  have  my  reasons  for  stakin'  for 
her  yesterday.  If  any  of  you  fellows  want  to 
kick  at  what  I  have  done,  you  can  just  take  it 
out  in  kickin' — yourselves.  Our  new  ledge  is 
a  jim-dandy;  and  seein'  as  I  cheated  the 
woman  out  of  her  cassiterite,  I'm  bound  to 
make  it  good  in  yellow  gold. 

"But  I'm  goin'  to  turn  in  now,  boys,  and 
I'll  listen  to  you  to-morrow.  Good  night." 


CHAPTER  II 

UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

IN  a  little  three-room  cabin  in  Nome,  a 
middle-aged  woman,  wearing  glasses, 
knitted  a  gray  woollen  sock  for  her 
boy,  as  she  called  him. 

"Yes",  she  said  musingly,  "my  hus- 
band and  I  came  here  during  the  rush  of 
1900.  My  son,  Leroy,  had  come  the  year 
before  to  pave  the  way  for  us,  as  he  called  it, 
and  this  he  tried  his  best  to  do.  He  staked 
some  gold  claims  and  a  town  lot,  and  put  up 
a  one-room  cabin,  building  on  to  the  latter 
after  we  arrived.  His  idea  was  to  get  his 
father  and  me  away  from  the  farm  (which  he 
hated)  and  start  us  in  mining  in  Alaska,  he 
being  exceedingly  enthusiastic  on  this  subject 
and  positive  that  we  would  enjoy  it  as  well  as 
he  did." 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  introduction  to  the 
story  the  woman  laid  down  her  knitting  and 
pushed  her  glasses  up  to  the  top  of  her  head. 
Then  with  an  amused  expression  about  the 
corners  of  her  mouth,  she  said: 

"The  story  of  all  the  actual  mining  that  Pa 

22 


UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

Morrison  and  I  ever  did  is  not  a  long  one, 
but  it  is  one  he  would  much  rather  I  did  not 
often  relate.  However,  as  you  wish  to  hear 
it,  and  he  is  too  busy  at  his  book-keeping  in 
the  next  room  to  know  what  is  going  on,  I 
will  tell  you  how  we  began  mining  in  Alaska. 

"We  had  landed  safely  upon  the  beach  with 
all  our  necessary  belongings,  as  well  as 
feather-beds  and  pillows,  also  fruit-cake  and 
other  good  things  for  Christmas.  My  son 
had  met  us  with  open  arms  and  shown  us  with 
much  pleasure  to  his  tiny  cabin  on  a  nearby 
street.  To  this  place  all  our  boxes  were  in 
due  time  hauled  by  dog-team,  and  a  big  tent 
set  up  temporarily  alongside  the  cabin. 

"While  unpacking  articles  to  be  immedi- 
ately used  we  had  not  forgotten  our  mining 
tools,  gold  pan,  picks  and  shovels,  as  well  as 
rubber  boots,  and  all  were  spread  out  in  fine 
array  in  the  sunshine  beside  the  tent. 

"Much  of  our  clothing  had  been  especially 
selected  with  a  view  to  our  new  occupation, 
and  there  were  dozens  of  new  blue  and  brown 
denim  jumpers  and  overalls,  bandana  hand- 
kerchiefs, woollen  socks  and  shirts  for  Pa,  as 
well  as  short,  warm  dresses  and  stout  aprons 
for  me. 

23 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"To  enumerate  all  would  take  too  long. 
Enough  to  say  that  in  our  anxiety  to  get  to 
work  at  the  real  object  of  our  coming,  we 
rushed  the  adjustment  of  affairs  in  our  camp 
through  with  all  speed,  and  two  days  after 
landing  at  Nome,  Pa  and  I  started  out  to  do 
some  mining  on  our  own  hook  upon  our  first 
gold  claim." 

Here  the  woman  paused  to  take  breath,  and 
picking  up  her  knitting  to  inspect  it  for  a  mo- 
ment, seemed  somewhat  reluctant  to  proceed. 

"Was  the  claim  far  from  town?"  some  one 
asked,  in  order  to  bring  her  back  to  her  narra- 
tive, and  at  the  same  time  not  to  appear  too 
anxious. 

"Oh,  no,"  she  said,  brightening  consider- 
ably. "Leroy  is  always  such  a  good  and 
thoughtful  fellow,  and  he  had  selected  this 
cabin  for  us  near  the  west  end  of  town,  close 
to  the  cemetery,  on  the  tundra.  It  was  only 
a  short  walk  for  us,  he  said,  and  the  ground 
must,  undoubtedly,  be  rich,  as  much  gold  had 
been  taken  out  of  the  beach-diggings  next  the 
tundra  where  our  claim  was  located. 

"It  was  reported  that  the  beach  contained 
from  one  to  three  pay  streaks  before  a  depth 
of  three  feet  was  reached;  that  nuggets  worth 
24 


'Dressed  in  his  fresh  miner's  rig" 


UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

as  much  as  twenty  dollars  were  found  in  the 
beach-diggings,  and  the  tundra  was  good  pay 
dirt  from  the  'grass  roots  down'. 

"Well,  my  husband  and  I  started  for  the 
claim,  as  I  said — we  started  Snake  River 
bridge,  Pa  paying  his  ten  cents  toll,  while  I 
went  across  free  as  was  the  custom  that  sum- 
mer, and  we  trudged  down  the  road  on  the 
sandspit  to  the  cemetery.  Dressed  in  his 
fresh  miner's  rig,  (that  was  an  accidental 
pun)  taken  so  lately  from  our  big  packing 
boxes,  Pa  marched  with  all  the  dignity  a  man 
of  his  height  and  thinness  can  assume,  with 
a  gold  pan  under  one  arm,  and  a  shiny  pick 
and  shovel  upon  his  shoulder.  I  followed 
close  behind." 

At  this  stage  of  the  story  Mrs.  Morri- 
son cast  a  quick  glance  at  the  door  of  the  ad- 
joining room  where  her  husband  was  writ- 
ing. Then  opening  a  table  drawer  close  at 
hand,  she  took  out  two  kodak  views  and 
handed  them  to  her  listeners. 

"He  must  not  know  where  I  keep  these 
pictures  or  he  would  burn  them  as  sure  as 
fate;  I  have  dubbed  them  'before  and  af- 
ter'." 

They  examined  the  views  she  handed 
27 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

them.  A  stout,  resolute  looking  woman  with 
a  pleased  expectant  countenance,  short  dress, 
huge  basket  on  right  arm.  The  man  beside 
her  holding  his  broad  brimmed  miner's  hat 
in  his  hands,  his  unused  gold  pan,  pick  and 
shovel,  at  his  feet.  For  a  background  a 
tent,  a  bit  of  the  river,  and  bridge. 

In  the  "After"  picture  the  scene  was 
changed.  Dejection  was  depicted  on  both 
faces.  Their  clothing  was  soiled  and  their 
implements  had  seen  usage,  but  were  now 
flung  upon  the  ground  in  disorder. 

"A  friend  took  these  snap-shots  of  us,"  she 
explained,  returning  the  photos  to  their 
places,  "and  Leroy  likes  to  preserve  them 
'just  for  fun'  he  says. 

"To  go  back  to  my  story,  we  made  our 
way  along  as  best  we  could  by  inquiring  (for 
Leroy  had  been  obliged  to  go  to  the  creeks 
to  attend  to  some  work  in  progress ;  so  could 
not  go  with  us;  in  fact,  he  did  not  know  of 
our  intention  of  sallying  out  upon  the  tun- 
dra), and  finally  arrived  at  the  cemetery. 
We  spent  little  time  in  looking  at  the  few 
rude  head-boards  and  scattered  mounds  of 
those  quiet  sleepers  by  the  sea,  but  bestowed 
more  attention  upon  the  beach-miners  on 
28 


UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

our  left.  Here,  at  the  edge  of  the  water, 
and  even  standing  in  the  surf,  were  many 
men  at  work,  beach-mining  with  Long-Toms' 
or  other  contrivances,  and  all  wore  high- 
topped  rubber  boots. 

"Looking  about  for  the  claim  in  which 
we  were  so  much  interested,  we  finally  found 
the  corner  stakes,  and  the  St.  Charles 
cream  can  in  which  the  location  notice  had 
been  placed  by  Leroy  a  few  months  before. 

"Then  Pa  wanted  me  to  read  the  paper  to 
him,  which  I  did,  after  seating  myself  on  a 
big  hummock  of  tundra  and  properly  adjust- 
ing my  spectacles. 

"The  paper  ran  thus:  'We,  the  under- 
signed citizens  of  the  United  States,  have  dis- 
covered placer  gold  in  the  ground  herein- 
after described,  and  hereby  claim  for  placer- 
mining  purposes  twenty  acres  on  the  tundra 
west  of  Nome  and  100  feet  north  of  theceme- 
tery.'  Then  followed  the  distance  between 
stakes,  the  name  of  the  witness,  our  own 
names,  and  that  of  Leroy  as  our  agent,  the 
date  of  the  location,  etc. 

"By  this  time  Mr.  Morrison  was  hungry. 
So  after  replacing  the  location  notice  on  the 
initial  stake  under  the  old  cream  can,  just 
29 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

as  we  found  it,  we  lunched  heartily  on  ham 
sandwiches,  doughnuts,  pie  and  cheese.  A 
quart  bottle  of  coffee  had  added  much  to  the 
weight  of  the  basket  on  the  way. 

"We  now  turned  our  attention  to  the  tun- 
dra. Of  what  was  it  composed?  How  deep 
was  it?  Was  it  easily  handled?  Would  it 
burn?  Was  it  wet?  And  how  large  an  ex- 
tent of  country,  or  rather  territory,  did  it 
cover.  These  were  only  a  few  of  the  ques- 
tions that  Pa  Morrison  now  flung  at  me  in 
quick  succession,  leaning  as  he  did  mean- 
while on  the  handle  of  the  shovel. 

"I  grew  impatient. 

'  'I  really  cannot  answer  your  questions, 
Pa  Morrison,  and  you  know  it;  but  as  to 
the  extent  of  the  tundra  I  think  I  can  safely 
say  that  it  covers  the  whole  of  this  gold 
claim  and  a  good  deal  more  besides,  for  I  can 
see  as  far  as  the  hills  yonder  without  my 
glasses  that  it  all  looks  alike,'  and  I  tugged 
with  might  and  main  at  some  small  trailing 
vines  imbedded  in  the  deep  mosses. 

'  'As  to  the  depth  of  this  tundra  you  have 
the  shovel  in  your  hands  and  can  soon  in- 
vestigate if  you  see  fit  to  do  so',  I  continued 
as  Pa  still  stood  looking  dubiously  about  him 
30 


UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

without  so  much  as  making  a  jab  with  his 
shovel. 

"  'Then  there  is  the  composition  of  this 
tundra  to  be  studied.  If  I  understood  the 
flora  of  Alaska  I  would  give  you  the  de- 
sired information  quick,  but  I  don't,  and  I 
am  too  old  to  begin  to  study  it  now.  I  be- 
lieve, however,  that  I  can  tell  a  gold  nugget 
when  I  see  it,  and  if  you  will  bestir  yourself 
and  turn  up  a  few,  I  will  agree  to  analyze 
them  to  your  heart's  content,'  giving  him 
what  was  meant  to  be  a  conciliatory  smile 
which  was  entirely  lost  because  he  never 
looked  my  way. 

"With  that  he  set  to  work.  Down  into 
the  deep  moss  and  tangled  vines  of  the  tun- 
dra he  plunged  that  new  and  shining  shovel 
with  force  enough  to  jar  the  teeth  out  of  his 
head.  This  was  kept  up  for  fully  ten  min- 
utes, while  I  rummaged  around  among  the 
hummocks  for  the  lovely  many  colored 
mosses,  and  mentally  tried  to  count  the  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  tiny  plants,  numbers  of  which 
were  blossoming  in  artistic  colors  and  pro- 
fusion under  our  feet. 

"  'Mary.' 

"  Tes,  Pa.' 

31 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"  'Do  you  think  a  hole  four  feet  square 
instead  of  six  would  be  big  enough  ?' 

"  'O,  yes,  certainly.  Anything,  if  it  is  only 
one  foot  square,'  said  I,  sarcastically,  for  I 
had  a  consuming  anxiety  to  get  down  to  those 
nuggets  which  lay  'just  at  the  grass  roots'  and 
Pa  was  so  awfully  slow. 

"We  had  talked  this  matter  over  the  day 
before,  and  had  decided  upon  a  hole  six  feet 
square. 

"  'If  I  were  in  your  place,  Mary,  I  wouldn't 
be  too  smart,'  said  he  testily,  and  then  rested 
again  upon  the  shovel  handle.  His  face  was 
flushed  and  heated.  He  breathed  hard.  Dead 
silence  for  a  long  minute. 

'  'I  wish  I'd  brought  the  axe,'  said  he. 

"  'What  for?' 

'To   cut   these   beastly   vines   and   roots 
with.' 

"  'Dear  me !  Shall  I  go  home  and  fetch  it?' 

"  'No,  you  needn't',  crossly.     'By  the  time 
you  got  here  with  it  you  would  have  to  go 
right  back  to  get  supper.     It  is  half  past  one 
o'clock  now,  and  I  have  been  at  work  an  hour.' 
'  'But  you  were  going  to  work  all  day, 
weren't  you?'     He  had  scarcely  made  an  im- 
pression on  that  tundra,  and  not  a  single  nug- 
32 


UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

get  had  we  seen. 

"With  that  he  planted  a  few  more  good, 
hard  jabs  into  the  thicket  of  moss,  vines  and 
leaves,  trying  to  get  the  hole  four  feet  square 
anyway,  after  my  rather  uncalled  for  taunt 
about  its  size. 

"In  the  meanwhile  I  was  not  wasting  my 
time.  I  was  using  the  pick  upon  a  cluster  of 
bunch  grass  hummocks,  wishing  to  fill  the  gold 
pan  with  dirt  from  underneath  that  I  might 
wash  it  out  and  see  if  it  contained  'colors'. 

"Somehow  I  felt  more  subdued  like,  per- 
haps because  I  was  growing  tired;  but  Pa 
seemed  to  be  affected  differently.  I  could  hear 
him  grumbling  to  himself,  and  that  was  a  bad 
sign.  By  and  by  his  shovel  struck  something 
hard.  He  uttered  an  oath. 

"  'Pa  Morrison !'  I  exclaimed,  'Ain't  you 
ashamed  of  yourself?  To  think  of  your 
swearing  like  that.  It's  awful !  Give  me  that 
shovel  instantly.' 

'"I  won't!' 

"  'Give  me  that  shovel,  I  say,'  for  we 
were  both  church  members  and  had  been  for 
many  years,  and  I  was  inexpressibly  shocked 
at  his  profanity,  and  wished  to  remove  the 
cause. 

33 

J  «J  ..* 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"  'Shut  your  head,  Mary  Morrison !  Whose 
doing  this  mining,  will  you  tell  me?' 

"  'O,  of  course  you  are,  but  then  I  wanted 
to  help  you  if  I  could,'  trying  to  speak  quietly 
and  coming  close  enough  to  take  the  instru- 
ment of  dispute  from  his  hand  if  he  would  let 
me. 

"No  reply. 

"  'What  did  you  strike,  Pa,  that  made  the 
shovel  ring  just  now  ?' 

"'Shovel! — ring!  —  It  was  ice!  bloomin', 
blasted,  infernal  ice,  I  tell  you,'  he  shouted 
in  a  rage,  standing  in  black  muck  almost  to  his 
knees,  with  the  same  material  bespattered 
over  him  from  head  to  foot.  Indeed  his  red 
and  perspiring  face  showed  a  couple  of  great, 
black  smirches  with  which  he  had  unknowing- 
ly beautified  himself. 

"He  was  fairly  sizzling  with  wrath.  "Git 
down  here  yourself,  and  go  to  work,  and  see 
how  you  like  it,'  he  shouted  excitedly,  for- 
getting his  English  and  everything  but  that 
we"  had  encountered  an  astonishingly  hard 
proposition,  and  it  had  gotten  the  best  of  us. 
Like  an  old  clock  he  was  wound  up  and  could 
not  stop. 

'  'No  gold,  no  nuggets,  no  grass  roots 
34 


UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

even;  nothing  but  muck  and  ice !'  and  another 
mouthful  of  big,  strong  words  gurgled  from 
that  man's  lips  like  water  from  an  uncorked 
jug. 

"  'Don't,  Mr.  Morrison,  don't  do  that,' 
said  I,  in  a  voice  cold  as  the  ice  in  that  four 
foot  hole,  'you  may  be  heard  by  some  one 
who  will  report  you  to  the  church  trustees, 
and  then  you  will  be  expelled.  At  your  age 
it  would  be  a  positive  disgrace.' 

"  'Shut  your  mouth,  I  tell  you,'  he  yelled, 
'I  ain't  no  baby !  I  know  what  I'm  doing,  and 
I  know  what  I  want  to  do,  but  it  ain't  mining 
on  this  confounded  tundra  !' 

"At  this  I  clapped  my  hands  over  my  ears 
to  shut  out  such  language,  but  he  kept  on  just 
the  same. 

'  'Did  we  lease  our  farm  for  a  whole  year 
with  all  the  machinery  and  stock,  pack  up  our 
household  furniture  and  come  three  thousand 
miles  over  this  water  like  the  blooming  old 
idiots  we  are,  to  dig  in  a  muckhole  full  of  ice  ? 
Did  we  tell  our  banker  that  he  should  have 
the  very  first  gold  we  took  out  of  the  ground 
to  pay  the  two  hundred  dollar  mortgage  on 
our  town  lots?  Does  this  look  much  like  lift- 
ing mortgages  from  anything?' 

35 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"As  I  made  no  reply  he  insisted,  'Does  it, 
I  say?' 

"  'No,  Pa  Morrison,  it  doesn't,'  I  admit- 
ted, 'but  wait  a  minute  and  let  me  talk.' 

"  'Well,  ain't  you  talking  now?'  he  re- 
joined irritably. 

"Without  noticing  his  exasperating  words 
or  tone  I  said  calmly: 

'  'I  remember  hearing  Leroy  say  when  we 
first  arrived  that  the  tundra  is  a  hard  and 
peculiar  proposition.  Many  have  failed  at 
mining  it,  but  to  those  who  go  to  work  at  it  in 
the  right  way,  at  the  proper  time  it  will  prove 
a  bonanza.  Now,  probably  you  and  I  have 
not  gone  at  it  properly.' 

"A  surly  silence  ensued,  during  which  Pa 
worked  slowly,  with  anything  but  a  good 
grace.  Leroy  was  right.  The  tundra  was  a 
hard  and  peculiar  proposition.  Nothing  like 
it  had  we  ever  seen  before.  For  miles  on 
three  sides  of  us  it  spread  itself  like  a  carpet 
of  green,  dotted  often  with  tiny  pools  of  clear 
water,  shining  like  glass  in  the  June  sunshine. 
Miles  away  to  the  northward  rolled  the 
smooth-topped  hills,  only  one  of  them  bearing 
a  small,  rocky  crest;  while  further  away,  and 
forming  a  background  to  these,  lay  the  snow- 
36 


UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

tipped  Sawtooth. 

To  the  south  of  us  and  close  at  hand  spread 
the  wonderful  waters  upon  whose  broad  and 
beautiful  bosom  we  had  so  lately  sailed,  and 
whose  gently  sweeping  surf  was  today  making 
sweet  music  among  the  sands  and  pebbles  on 
the  beach. 

"Many  ships  lay  at  anchor  beyond.  How- 
ever, it  was  neither  the  scenery,  nor  the  water, 
nor  the  ships  that  we  were  now  called  upon  to 
consider;  but  a  layer  of  ice,  the  depth  of 
which  we  did  not  know,  lying  between  us  and 
the  much  desired  golden  nuggets.  The  ground 
lay  level  and  open  to  the  sun,  with  nothing  to 
prevent  its  thawing  except  this  peculiar  blan- 
ket of  tundra  mosses,  vines,  and  plants,  which 
formed  an  insulator  as  perfect  as  if  made  to 
order.  It  was  now  the  middle  of  June.  There 
was  no  doubt  but  that  the  ice  would  remain 
as  it  was  all  summer. 

"Giant  powder  might  possibly  be  used,  but 
it  was  dangerous  and  expensive.  I  would 
never  allow  Father  to  handle  the  stuff.  Better 
let  it  all  go  forever.  Probably  Pa  was  right 
about  our  being  foolish  to  come  here.  We 
could  go  home  again  as  many  people  were 
doing.  There  lay  the  steamers  making  prepa- 
37 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

rations  to  sail;  but  how  our  friends  at  home 
would  laugh  at  us ! 

"On  the  other  hand  was  it  not  too  soon 
to  pronounce  on  this  tundra,  and  really  no 
fair  trial  of  the  ground  or  mining?  Then, 
too,  our  son  probably  had  his  own  plans  for 
us  which  must  be  more  intelligent  ones,  for 
had  he  not  had  some  experience  and  a  year's 
residence  in  this  place? 

"There  were  the  creek  claims,  besides. 
They  must  surely  be  very  different  and  easier 
to  work. 

"Reasoning  thus  I  had  wandered  away  a 
short  distance  by  myself  in  order  to  let  Pa's 
temper  cool,  and  had  forgotten  the  planning 
I  had  started  out  to  do. 

"I  now  returned.  Taking  up  the  gold 
pan  I  filled  it  with  dirt  and  muck  from  the 
four  foot  hole  taken  directly  above  the  ob- 
jectionable ice,  and  though  I  found  its 
weight  almost  more  than  I  could  carry,  and 
Pa  did  not  offer  to  help  me  in  the  least,  I 
carried  it  to  a  small  pool  of  water  at  no 
great  distance  and  began  to  pan  it. 

"How  heavy  it  was  to  be  sure.  There 
might  be  gold  in  it  yet.  I  would  see  pres- 
ently. I  had  watched  men  panning  on  the 
38 


UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

beach  that  morning  and  I  believed  I  could 
do  it  as  it  appeared  very  easy. 

"Immersing  the  pan  in  the  water,  after 
pinning  my  skirts  carefully  higher,  I  began 
the  rotary  motion  so  necessary  to  separate 
the  gold  from  the  sand  and  dirt.  A  moment 
of  this  employment  and  I  was  breathing 
heavily  and  felt  very  warm.  I  put  the  pan 
down  and  flung  off  my  sun-bonnet,  pulling  my 
sleeves  a  notch  higher  before  continuing. 
Again  the  rotary  movement  with  various 
dips  of  the  edge  of  the  big  pan  to  let  the 
waste  material  pass  away.  Small  pebbles 
showed  themselves  and  had  to  be  picked  out, 
the  heavier  material  sinking  in  the  natural 
order  of  things,  to  the  bottom. 

"I  was  watching  the  outcome  with  great 
interest,  though  panting  for  breath  and  cov- 
ered with  perspiration.  Suddenly  the  soft 
earth  under  my  right  foot  gave  way,  and  I 
found  myself,  gold  pan  and  all,  in  the  mud 
and  water  up  to  my  knees. 

"I  thought  of  Pa  and  his  recent  profanity, 
but  I  shut  my  teeth  resolutely  together, 
wringing  out  the  edges  of  my  petticoats  and 
pulling  my  rubber  boot  tops  still  higher. 

"Fishing  for  the  gold  pan  I  brought  it  to 
39 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

light.  Of  course  its  contents  were  lost,  my 
hands  and  clothes  were  muddied  and  my  ef- 
forts wasted;  but  I  would  not  give  it  up  yet. 

"Another  pan  of  the  same  material  was 
brought  and  a  second  trial  was  made,  with 
success  this  time  as  the  pan  was  not  filled  so 
full. 

"Finally,  after  shaking,  twisting,  dipping, 
picking  out  pebbles,  washing  off  sand,  and 
resting  a  moment  at  intervals,  it  was  finished. 

"There  was  gold  in  the  pan. 

"A  few  small  'colors',  bright  and  shining 
as  if  made  so  by  much  scouring  of  beach 
sand,  appeared  in  the  bottom  of  the  gold  pan 
to  gladden  my  longing  eyes,  and  I  hastened 
to  show  them  to  Pa  Morrison,  whose  head 
and  shoulders  were  still  visible  in  that  four 
foot  hole. 

"  'Humph!'  said  he,  in  much  disgust,  as  I 
exhibited  the  result  of  my  labors.  'Is  that 
all?' 

"  'Why,  yes.' 

"  'And  no  nuggets?' 

"  'No  nuggets.' 

"At  that  he  flung  the  pick  he  had  been  us- 
ing in  the  ice  upon  the  ground. 

"  'I'm  going  home',  he  said  shortly. 
40 


UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

"Now  I  hardly  knew  whether  he  intended 
to  say  he  was  going  to  the  United  States,  or 
to  the  little  cabin  and  tent  on  Front  Street, 
but  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  exploding  an- 
other bomb  of  wrath  like  the  last  one  by  ask- 
ing  a  question,  I  kept  quiet  and  made  prepar- 
ations to  go  back  to  our  tent. 

"On  the  beach  we  washed  our  hands  and 
smoothed  our  clothing  as  best  we  could;  but 
the  frown  which  had  lodged  on  Pa's  fore- 
head remained. 

"That  evening  when  Leroy  had  returned 
from  his  work  and  we  had  eaten  our  eight 
o'clock  supper  with  the  sun  still  shining  very 
brightly  upon  the  tent,  the  boy  lighted  his 
pipe  and  asked  for  the  story  of  the  day's 
doings. 

"I  then  gave  it  from  the  beginning.  When 
I  reached  Pa's  discovery  of  the  ice  in  the 
prospect  hole  on  the  tundra,  Leroy  laughed 
heartily.  Then  seeing  the  aggrieved  look  on 
his  father's  face,  and,  I  suppose,  a  bothered 
one  on  my  own,  he  became  more  serious,  and 
drawing  closer,  took  my  hand  in  both  of  his. 

"  'I  never  intended  you  to  begin  mining 
in  that  way,  Mother,'  he  said,  simply,  in  a 
low  voice.  'I  want  you  here  to  help  me  keep 
41 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

house,  to  mend  my  clothes,  to  bake  bread 
and  fry  griddle  cakes,  and  do  the  many  lit- 
tle things  for  Father  and  me  that  only  you 
can  do.  In  this  way  I  can  keep  my  health 
and  give  all  my  time  to  my  mining.' 

"  'I  want  you,  Father,'  he  continued,  lay- 
ing his  hand  affectionately  on  his  pa's  knee, 
'to  do  my  book-keeping,  reckoning  the  time 
and  wages  of  my  men  at  work  on  the  claims. 
Accounts  of  assessment  work  on  twenty 
claims,  besides  new  prospecting  in  different 
localities,  will  give  you  something  to  do  after 
cutting  the  kindling  for  Mother;  and  neither 
of  you  need  feel  that  you  are  useless  nor 
idle.  Part  of  these  gold  claims  are  yours, 
and  in  your  own  names,  and  you  can  both 
make  short  'mushing'  trips  of  inspection 
over  the  country  when  you  like;  though  the 
new  railroad  up  Anvil  will  be  finished  in  a 
few  weeks,  and  then  you  can  ride.  Under 
no  consideration  must  either  of  you  think  for 
one  moment  of  buying  steamer  tickets  back 
to  the  States  inside  of  a  year.  At  the  end 
of  that  time  we  will  be  taking  out  so  much 
gold  that  you  will  not  wish  to  leave,  I  as- 
sure you.  I  am  almost  thirty  years  old  now, 
Mother,  and  you  and  Father  are  all  I  have,' 
42 


UNDER  THE  TUNDRA 

he  said  softly,  pressing  my  hand. 

"Then  I  kissed  his  forehead  and  promised 
to  stay,  and  I  have  never  been  sorry.  Father 
said  he  would  try  it  a  year,  and  then  see  about 
staying  longer,  and  here  we  are  still  in  Nome 
after  four  years  without  once  going  'outside'. 

"And  you  like  it  here?"  they  asked. 

"Very  much  indeed,  because  our  ground  is 
turning  out  finely,  and  Leroy  is  so  good  to  us. 

"About  that  tundra  claim,  however,  noth- 
ing was  ever  done.  Pa  could  never  be  induced 
to  step  his  foot  upon  it  again,  and  being  so  de- 
termined in  the  matter,  we  just  let  it  drop. 

"There  it  is  yet,  St.  Charles  cream  can, 
stakes,  and  all;  but  the  four  foot  hole,  with  its 
icy  foundations,  is  nowhere  to  be  seen,  having 
been  long  ago  levelled  by  wind  and  weather." 


43 


1 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   HIDDEN   LEDGE 

summer  of  1897  was  a  memor- 
able one  in  the  great  Northwest. 
It  was  then  that  the  first  authen- 
tic news  of  the  immense  richness 
of  the  Klondyke  region  became 
public.  Less  than  a  dozen  persons  had  win- 
tered on  Bonanza  and  Eldorado,  the  famous 
gold  creeks  discovered  by  Carmack  in  Septem- 
ber, 1896,  and  these  reported  the  marvelously 
rich  "strikes."  Certain  weighty  moosehide 
sacks  they  carried,  confirmed  their  stories. 

Two  weeks  later  the  docks  of  the  principal 
cities  on  the  sunset  coast  presented  a  changed 
appearance.  All  was  hurry  and  flurry.  Ships 
being  loaded  to  the  deck  rails  were  moored 
by  their  great  hawsers  alongside  docks  groan- 
ing under  immense  freight  deposited  upon 
them.  The  rush  and  clatter  of  drays  and 
wagons  united  in  one  deep,  deafening  roar. 
These  huge  masses  of  freight  and  baggage 
presented  the  same  general  appearance. 
Everything  with  which  to  begin  mining  life  in 
44 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

a  new  and  barren  country  was  there.  Dog 
sleds  and  fur  robes,  heavy  army  sacks  cram- 
med to  their  drawstrings  with  Mackinaw  and 
rubber  clothing,  boots  and  shoes,  boats,  tents, 
dogs  and  horses,  piles  of  lumber  for  boat 
building,  coils  of  rope,  dog  harness  and  bales 
of  hay,  while  fat  yellow  coated  hams  bulged 
in  heaps  both  gay  and  greasy  in  the  summer 
sun  as  though  further  frying  were  unneces- 
sary. 

There  were  mining  tools  heaped  in  corners 
or  against  the  walls  of  warehouses,  being 
stacked  too  high  to  safely  keep  their  places  if 
jostled  ever  so  lightly.  New  and  clean  gold 
pans,  one  inside  another,  towered  roofward 
among  outfits  of  aspiring  tradespeople  of  the 
prospective  camps  in  the  Klondyke;  these 
same  rich  men  in  embryo  being  also  the  pro- 
prietors of  the  closely  piled  sacks  of  flour, 
meal  and  beans,  along  with  hundreds  of  cases 
of  butter,  eggs  and  cream,  ad  infinitum. 

Among  the  hurrying,  excited  men  prepar- 
ing for  departure  an  undesirably  large  num- 
ber were  those  anxiously  caring  for  bottle- 
filled  cases  and  black  barrels,  cumbrous  and 
heavy  enough  to  have  been  already  crammed 
with  Klondyke  gold;  but  in  reality  being  full 

45 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

to  the  brim  of  that  which  (their  owners  prog- 
nosticated) would  relieve  them  of  using  pick 
and  shovel,  and  bring  them  without  effort 
after  their  arrival  in  the  new  diggings  all  the 
shining  gold  they  could  want  to  handle.  It 
concerned  them  little  that  they  would  give  in 
exchange  for  all  this  wealth  only  that  which 
would  deplete  the  pockets,  befuddle  the  brains 
and  steal  the  wits  of  the  deluded  purchasers, 
making  them  in  every  case  less  able  to  cope 
with  adverse  conditions  so  desperate  in  this 
new,  untried,  and  remote  region. 

These  men  walked,  well  dressed  and  pomp- 
ous, among  their  goods  and  chattels  on  the 
great  and  busy  wharves  in  the  hot  sunshine, 
mopping  their  perspiring  brows  and  fat 
cheeks,  which  latter,  like  those  of  well  kept 
porkers,  adorned  their  rubicund  faces.  Across 
their  broad  waistcoats  dangled  glittering 
ropes  and  "charms"  of  tawdry  composition, 
well  suited  to  the  ankles  of  a  chaingang,  so 
heavy  were  they;  and  from  spotless  white  shirt 
fronts  there  shone  jewels  (?)  of  enormous 
size  and  cheapness. 

Above  the  din  was  heard  at  short  intervals 
on  the  steamer's  deck  the  rattle  of  machinery, 
dropping  huge,  freight-laden  nets  or  baskets 
46 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

into  the  hold.  Upon  the  wharves  hustled 
blackened  stevedores,  flushed  and  panting, 
reeking  with  perspiration  and  tobacco  juice, 
but  straining,  tugging,  lifting  until  one  could 
almost  imagine  he  heard  their  muscles  snap; 
resolutely  and  steadily  laboring  hour  after 
hour,  until  at  last,  wearied  beyond  further  en- 
durance, they  gave  way  to  others  who  sprang 
energetically  into  their  places. 

It  was  little  past  midsummer.  A  large  ship 
of  the  collier  class,  lately  fitted  in  the  roughest 
possible  manner  for  carrying  passengers  to 
Alaska,  lay  alongside  the  dock  in  the  great 
town  of  S.  Hundreds  of  people  waited  on 
shore  to  catch  the  latest  glimpse  of  friends 
about  to  leave  them,  while  a  round  thousand 
of  those  eager  to  "strike  it  rich"  in  the  new 
Klondyke  swarmed  over  the  vessel. 

Of  these,  many,  no  doubt,  would  never  re- 
turn. It  was  a  sad  day,  and  brightened  only 
by  that  hope  without  which  the  world  would 
be  undone. 

Upon  their  arrival  in  the  quiet  little  sea  of 
Lynn  three  days  later  all  hands  were  cheered 
because  this  indicated  the  end  of  their  uncom- 
fortable voyage;  and  even  if  new  discomforts 
awaited  them,  they  would,  at  least,  be  those 
47 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

occurring  on  shore  and  under  broad  heavens, 
in  pure,  cool  air,  where  the  fetid  atmosphere 
of  ship's  steerage  quarters  was  unknown. 

But  alas !  When  the  dense  fog  lifted,  and 
the  sun  with  diffidence  peeped  through  its 
grey  and  watery  veil,  the  sight  that  met  the 
eyes  of  the  expectant  argonauts  was  grand  but 
not  reassuring.  Mountains  rose  to  wondrous 
heights  above  and  on  all  sides  of  them,  while 
those  directly  in  front,  and  barring  them  from 
their  desired  route  and  destination  in  sheer 
contrariety  loomed  heaven-high,  as  though 
they  would  rend  the  azure  sky  with  their  jag- 
ged and  snowy  peaks.  Steep  and  precipitous 
rose  the  sides  of  those  giant  hills  directly  from 
the  water's  edge  except  where,  at  the  foot  of 
the  Grand  Canyon,  trending  northward,  a 
small  tract  of  wet  and  boggy  land  dejectedly 
spread  itself.  Between  this  and  the  anchored 
vessel  upon  the  decks  of  which  stood  the  thou- 
sand would-be  miners  the  waters  of  old  Lynn 
rose  and  fell  with  an  ocean's  pulsing,  at  the 
same  time  quietly  moving  in  their  accustomed 
way  among  the  beach  sands  and  shingle.  No 
soothing  lap  of  the  waters  against  the  sides 
of  the  vessel  consoled  these  unromantic  men. 
There  were  no  docks  or  wharves  at  Skagway. 
48 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

The  immense  ship's  cargo  must  be  unloaded 
into  small  boats  or  hastily  built  scows  to  be 
towed  ashore  over  the  shallow  waters.  It  was 
the  beginning  of  a  gigantic  undertaking,  and 
many,  hearing  of  a  more  desirable  landing- 
spot  and  a  quicker,  easier  mountain  pass 
further  on,  kept  with  the  ship  to  Dyea.  But 
the  same  low  and  lazily  lapping  waters  sur- 
rounded them  as  at  Skagway.  Tides  rose  and 
fell,  and,  at  their  own  will,  fogs  settled  and 
lifted. 

By  turns  rain  came,  winds  blew,  and  the 
sun  shone,  the  latter  in  a  subdued  and  ap- 
parently reluctant  manner,  as  in  winter  on 
the  shores  of  old  Puget. 

At  this  stage  of  affairs  there  was  no  fur- 
ther postponement  of  an  evil  day  possible, 
and  the  remaining  voyagers  with  their 
freight  were  hustled  on  shore  with  as  much 
expedition  as  was  permissible  with  a  few 
barges,  flat-bottomed  fishing  boats,  and  In- 
dian canoes. 

With  their  faraway  homes  behind  them, 
and  the  top  of  lowering  mountains  often 
hidden  by  storm-clouds  before  them,  these 
hundreds  of  daring  argonauts  faced  the 
hardships  of  a  trail,  and  life  in  an  Alaskan 

49 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

mountain  wilderness;  their  own  backs  and 
those  of  a  few  pack  animals  being  the  only 
means  of  transporting  many  tons  of  neces- 
sary supplies  into  the  vast  interior  to  which 
they  journeyed. 

To  say  that  the  courage  of  no  man  failed 
at  the  prospect  would  be  untrue;  but  none 
liked  to  appear  to  his  fellows  to  weaken,  and 
notwithstanding  the  disheartening  outlook, 
all  set  to  work  with  a  will  until  the  hold  of 
the  great  ship  was  entirely  empty  and  her 
waterline  had  risen  many  feet  above  the  rip- 
ples of  Lynn. 

The  scene  on  shore  was  a  repetition  of 
that  on  the  neighboring  beach  at  Skagway,  sep- 
arated from  it,  however,  by  glittering  peaks, 
the  snows  of  which  were  melted  daily  by  the 
sun  and  warm  wind  and  found  their  way  in 
streams  down  ravines  and  canyons,  across 
glaciers  and  around  boulders,  dropping  low- 
er and  still  lower  to  the  moraines  near  salt 
water. 

Busy  indeed  was  the  scene  now  presented. 
Colonies  of  canvas  tents  were  grouped  upon 
the  beaches  close  above  the  high  water  mark 
where  the  outfits  of  the  travelers  had  been 
hastily  dumped.  Camp  fires  crackled  and 
50 


The  scene  on  shore  was  a  repetition  of 

that  on  the  neighboring  beach 

at  Skagwan 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

Indian  fishermen   traded   fresh   salmon   for 
tobacco;  but  the  tired  and  already  mud-be-' 
draggled  prospectors  slept  heavily  upon  the 
damp,  cold  ground  when  too  much  exhaust- 
ed to  proceed  further  with  their  "packing." 

The  race  was  now  on.  With  many  it  was 
a  race  to  their  death.  On  sight  of  the  strug- 
gle at  closer  range,  men  formed  themselves 
into  groups  or  partnerships,  thinking  thus 
to  simplify  and  make  easier  the  crossing  with 
their  heavy  outfits  these  tremendous  moun- 
tains. In  some  instances  this  was  a  wise  pre- 
caution, but  in  many  more  cases  it  was  fol- 
lowed by  failure  to  work  harmoniously  to- 
gether, and  profanity,  bad  feeling,  and 
quarreling  ensued. 

Like  fish  in  their  native  element,  or  vam- 
pires living  off  others,  so  the  fat  and  rubi- 
cund-visaged  owners  of  the  bulky,  black  bar- 
rels before  mentioned,  flourished  on  the 
needs,  discouragements  and  extremity  of 
their  brothers.  Booths  and  shacks  were  ex- 
peditiously  erected  above  their  barrels 
dumped  out  upon  the  sands,  counters  and 
rude  seats  were  provided,  while  flaring,  star- 
ing cloth  signs  were  flung  out  informing  all 
that  this  was  "The  Shelter",  "Tommy's 
53 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

Place",  or  "Your  Own  Fireside",  in  order  to 
allure  the  cold,  weary  and  disheartened  travel- 
ers into  the  saloons.  Here,  in  exchange  for 
their  money,  they  were  given  poisonous  and 
adulterated  liquors,  imbibing  which,  with 
empty  stomachs  and  discouraged  hearts, 
they  became  ill-natured  and  selfish,  as  well 
as  in  a  chronic  state  of  internal  drought. 

At  Skagway  the  army  of  "stampeders" 
swarmed  up  into  the  mountains.  Following 
the  Skagway  River  northward  up  the  Grand 
Canyon,  their  difficult  trail  crossed  and  re- 
crossed  the  bed  of  the  stream  many  times. 
With  small  trees  "corduroy"  bridges  were 
hastily  thrown  down  in  spots  made  impassa- 
ble by  bogs  and  the  continued  tread  of  hun- 
dreds of  hurrying  feet.  With  quick,  impa- 
tient axe  strokes  men  struck  at  overhanging 
and  obstructing  trees  and  vines.  On  all  sides 
hung  huge  boulders  and  cliffs  like  pouting, 
protruding  lips,  as  if  the  mountains  had  been 
shaken  into  shape  by  some  subterrane  force 
and  resented  even  yet  their  rough  treatment. 
Mosses  hung  from  tree  trunks,  and  vines 
thickly  blanketed  the  rocks  and  ledges  be- 
tween which  dashed  sparkling  waterfalls  in 
haste  to  join  the  Skagway  below.  It  mat- 
54 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

tered  not  if  the  hot  noonday  sun  at  times  en- 
tered these  fastnesses;  it  served  only  to 
cheer  the  hearts  of  little  birds  and  animals, 
and  bring  to  pestiferous  life  millions  of  mos- 
quitoes and  flies  to  torment  both  day  and 
night  the  unfortunate  toilers  on  the  White 
Pass  Trail. 

These  toilers  worked  in  desperation. 
Their  mad  haste  was  infectious.  Men  liter- 
ally tumbled  over  each  other  on  the  trail  in 
their  eagerness  to  put  the  Passes  behind 
them.  Every  man  carried  strapped  upon  his 
back  as  much  of  a  load  as  it  was  possible  for 
him  to  carry,  and  often  times  more,  with  the 
not  infrequent  result  that  they  dropped  be- 
neath their  packs  on  the  trail.  In  like  man- 
ner they  loaded  the  animals  they  drove  be- 
fore them,  and  here  was  exhibited  man's  aw- 
ful inhumanity  to  the  dumb  brutes.  Pack 
horses,  mules  and  dogs,  loaded  to  top-heavi- 
ness and  cinched  until  one  could  almost  hear 
their  bones  crack,  climbed,  straining,  strug- 
gling, panting,  wild  eyed  and  steaming  from 
over-exertion  under  the  lash  of  angry  and 
profane  drivers,  until  they  sank  to  their 
haunches,  helpless  and  exhausted,  in  some 
quagmire.  Such  common  misfortune  neces- 
55 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

sitated  the  unloading  of  the  poor  beast  at  the 
loss  of  time  and  patience,  not  only  of  his 
own  driver,  but  those  following,  as  any  ob- 
struction to  this  narrow  trail  was  greeted 
with  extreme  disfavor. 

Language  both  bad  and  bitter  was  hourly 
exchanged  between  men  on  this  strenuous 
stampede  to  the  Klondyke  in  the  fall  of  '97. 
Animosities  were  born  which  die  only  when 
hearts  in  men's  bosoms  are  forever  stilled. 
Feuds  were  here  originated,  which  if  not  set- 
tled with  firearms  were  ended  in  ways  as 
deadly  afterwards. 

Conditions  on  the  Chilkoot  were  identical. 
"Tenderfeet"  were  there  as  tender,  and  the 
way  as  rough,  even  if  a  trifle  shorter  than 
that  over  the  White  Pass.  Nor  were  the 
tempers  of  the  Chilkoot  argonauts  better 
than  those  of  their  neighbors. 

One  root  of  the  matter  was  not  far  to 
seek.  Had  they  been  content  to  leave  li- 
quors untouched,  nerves  would  have  been 
less  often  jarred,  patience  would  not  have 
become  so  soon  exhausted,  while  brains 
would  have  been  clearer  to  plan,  foresee,  and 
execute.  Not  every  man  drank  liquors. 
There  were  numbers  whose  strongest  stimu- 
56 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

lant  was  the  fragrant  coffee,  or  water  from 
the  mountain  springs;  and  these  were  among 
the  quiet,  helpful  ones  who  plodded  pati- 
ently and  industriously;  lending  a  kindly 
hand  to  some  unfortunate  fallen  comrade  or 
animal  along  the  rock-bound  trail.  They,  too, 
were  the  ones  who  soonest  reached  the  first 
objective  point  of  their  journey — the  end  of 
mountaineering  at  Bennett,  from  which  place 
their  boats  would  carry  them  into  the  Klon- 
dyke. 

Among  hundreds  of  others  two  travelers 
one  day  trudged  with  heavy  packs  upon  their 
backs,  each  following  his  loaded  mule,  which, 
once  placed  in  the  long  line  of  men  and  ani- 
mals, wending  their  way  toward  the  moun- 
tains, would  not,  in  self-defense  choose  to  de- 
viate from  that  course. 

Both  men  were  strong,  of  middle  age,  and 
with  money  and  supplies  enough  to  take  them 
into  the  gold  fields.  After  landing  at  Skag- 
way  they  decided  to  go  into  partnership,  chief- 
ly for  the  purpose  of  receiving  assistance. 

Little  thought  was  given  by  either  to  the 
help  he  was  to  render  his  partner;  and  al- 
though they  had  now  been  but  a  few  days  to- 
gether, each  had  already  reminded  the  other 
57 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

of  some  fancied  duty  to  himself;  which  act, 
often  repeated,  will  sometimes  stir  up  un- 
pleasantly the  muddy  waters  of  men's  souls. 
After  having  gotten  a  late  start  from  Skag- 
way,  they  had  gone  only  about  two  miles  up 
the  Canyon  when  both  men  and  mules  seemed 
too  much  fagged  to  proceed  further  without 
rest,  and  as  night  was  close  upon  them  they 
decided  to  make  camp. 

Turning  to  the  west  side  of  the  Canyon 
they  moved  laboriously  among  fallen  logs, 
boulders  and  driftwood,  and  through  the 
tangle  of  vines,  ferns,  and  foliage  which  also 
barred  their  way. 

When  they  were  well  out  of  sight  of  their 
trail  companions  they  found  themselves  close 
under  a  huge  wall  of  rock  in  the  steep  moun- 
tain side  which  made  a  quiet  spot  for  camp- 
ing. 

Selecting  an  open  space  between  trees,  the 
packs  of  all  were  deposited  upon  the  ground. 
Men  and  mules  now  breathed  deeply,  and 
rested  strained  muscles,  so  chafed  beneath  the 
heavy  and  unaccustomed  packs. 

"Give  the  mules  enough  rope,  but  fasten 
'em  tight,  Smithson,"  said  one,  "we  don't 
want  'em  wanderin'  away  and  we  havin'  to 
58  ' 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

hunt  'em  up.  Time  is  too  precious  on  this 
trail,  and  there  are  too  many  fellows  around 
wishin'  fur  just  such  mules.  We'd  have  a 
dandy  time  hiking  it  over  the  Pass  with  our 
four  tons  of  grub  all  on  our  backs,  wouldn't 
we?" 

"It  would  take  us  a  year,  sure,"  was  the  re- 
ply, "and  may  as  it  is.  I  know  one  thing. 
I'm  goin'  to  take  a  drink  before  continuing 
these  proceedings,  and  I  advise  you  to  do  the 
same,"  pulling  a  flat  bottle  from  his  "jumper" 
pocket  and  putting  it  to  his  lips. 

For  answer  his  companion  dropped  the 
sticks  he  had  been  gathering  for  a  fire,  and 
produced  a  duplicate  bottle  which  he  quickly 
appropriated  in  like  manner. 

To  an  old  miner,  inured  to  such  life,  the 
work  of  pitching  camp  here  would  have  been 
slight,  but  to  these  men  it  was  a  new  experi- 
ence. Cooking  upon  a  camp  fire,  sleeping 
upon  a  bed  of  boughs,  cut  from  the  thicket 
when  exhausted  after  new  and  hard  labor  was 
bad  enough;  but  when  to  this  was  added  the 
almost  unendurable  stinging  and  singing  of 
the  ever  present  mosquitoes  it  was  a  thousand 
fold  worse.  A  good  fire  and  smoke  must  be 
kept  going  all  night,  and  by  lying  close  beside 
59 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

it  they  hoped  to  get  some  rest  from  the  in- 
sects. 

Before  sleeping  the  two  men  planned  their 
next  day's  work.  They  would  leave  every- 
thing and  ride  back  to  Skagway  for  another 
load  of  supplies,  getting  all  here  under  the 
rock  before  proceeding  further  up  the  trail. 

In  the  meantime  the  bothersome  winged  in- 
sects buzzed  and  flirted.  They  crept  into  the 
ears  of  men  and  mules  in  spite  of  the  long 
journey  the  latter  necessitated;  the  poor  brutes 
learned  after  a  time  either  to  keep  up  a  con- 
tinual flopping  of  these  head  ornaments,  or 
to  assume  a  low,  drooping  position,  thus  keep- 
ing their  ear  chambers  closed  to  visitors;  while 
their  caudal  appendages  were  not  allowed  a 
moment's  respite  from  duty.  The  men  re- 
lieved themselves  of  bitter  and  revengeful 
sentiments  toward  their  unwelcome  visitants 
by  deep  and  hearty  curses,  until  a  little  later, 
worn  and  weary,  in  the  camp-fire  "smudge" 
they  slept  despite  their  discomforts.  It  is  not 
really  known,  but  it  is  supposed,  that  the  two 
long  eared  animals  might  have  done  good 
work  that  night  had  they  been  wise  enough  to 
also  raise  their  voices  in  protest;  the  mosqui- 
toes of  these  mountain  fastnesses  being  as  yet 
60 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

unused  to  such  foreign  and  reverberating 
sounds. 

However,  the  men  slept  fitfully,  though 
they  arose  in  testy  humor  the  following  morn- 
ing and  took  immediate  recourse  to  their  whis- 
key bottles  upon  awaking. 

The  mules  were  still  fastened  to  a  tree  near- 
by. They  had  crossed  in  front  of  the  wall  of 
rock  which  was  moss  covered  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  its  face  was  considerably  hidden, 
and  then  climbed  higher  in  an  attempt  to  se- 
cure the  best  herbage,  and  were  still  brows- 
ing. 

"Smithson,  you're  the  youngest,  you  fetch 
the  mules  while  I  make  the  fire  for  breakfast," 
said  Roberts  to  his  companion,  yawning  and 
rubbing  his  mosquito  bitten  hands  and  face. 

"Do  it  yourself !  I'm  only  two  years  young- 
er than  you.  If  I'm  going  to  hear  that  gag 
every  time  there  is  anything  extra  hard  to  do 
on  this  trip  I'll  quit  now  and  hunt  a  boy  to 
work  with,"  was  the  disgruntled  answer. 

"Do  it  then !  I  don't  care;  though  I  don't 
think  it's  harder  to  get  the  mules  than  to  bring 
water,  cut  wood,  and  get  breakfast,  do  you? 
I'll  swap  jobs  if  you  want  to,  but  getting  the 
mules  includes  watering  them  at  the  creek,  of 
61 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

course." 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course,"  echoed  Smithson  in 
a  surly  voice. 

"You  better  get  a  move  on  or  I'll  have 
breakfast  cooked  and  eaten  before  you  get 
'round  to  anything.  You  needn't  suppose 
I'm  going  to  do  your  work  and  mine,  too," 
was  the  impatient  rejoinder  of  Roberts  as  he 
swung  his  axe  hard  into  a  stick  of  wet  wood 
he  was  cutting. 

Smithson  shuffled  off  up  the  bluff  in  search 
of  the  animals,  which,  when  found,  were 
treated  in  no  very  kindly  manner  by  the  sour 
faced,  mosquito-bitten  and  generally  disgust- 
ed tenderfoot,  whose  introduction  into  this 
new  world  was,  apparently,  taking  all  good- 
nature out  of  him. 

The  mules  made  no  resistance  and  were 
soon  poking  their  noses  into  the  creek  wa- 
ters where  Smithson  had  led  them.  When 
he  returned  to  camp  expecting  to  find  a 
smoking  breakfast  awaiting  him,  he  was  dis- 
appointed. Looking  about  for  Roberts  he 
saw  him  against  the  face  of  the  cliff  nearly 
half  way  to  its  top. 

"Smithson,  come  here  quick,"  called  Rob- 
erts in  a  voice  trembling  with  excitement. 
62 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

"I  won't  do  it!  I  want  my  breakfast. 
What  are  you  doing?  Picking  wild  flowers, 
I  suppose.  How're  we  goin'  to  get  along 
without  grub,  I'd  like  to  know.  Come  down, 
I  say!" 

Roberts  appeared  to  be  working  indus- 
triously. Finally  he  rose  from  his  stooping 
position,  and  motioning  to  his  partner,  called 
out  in  a  low  tone : 

"Come  quick,  man,  or  you'll  be  sorry! 
Never  mind  breakfast;  you  can  eat  that  any 
day;  but  you  don't  see  this  sight  often." 

With  that  Smithson  ambled  over  to  the 
foot  of  the  cliff. 

"What  is  it?"  he  inquired  crossly. 

"Catch  this  bit  of  rock  and  look  at  it," 
said  Roberts  in  a  low,  excited  voice,  drop- 
ping a  small  white  fragment  at  the  feet  of 
the  other. 

"By  Jove!     Roberts,   it  carries  gold!" 

"Shut  your  mouth !  Don't  tell  the  men  on 
the  trail!  These  hills  have  ears  and  plenty 
of  'em.  Come  up  here  quick,  but  first  bring 
a  pick  and  hammer  from  the  packs." 

With  that  the  dilatory  fellow  forgot  his 
hunger,  his  mosquito-bitten  hands  and  face, 
and  in  less  than  two  minutes  was  climbing  up 
63 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

the  cliff  with  the  tools. 

He  found  his  partner  looking  well  pleased 
but  perspiring.  As  Smithson  joined  him  he 
sat  down  on  the  rock  and  mopped  his  face 
with  his  red  bandana. 

"What  made  you  come  up  here?"  asked 
Smithson,  "I  thought  you  were  gettin'  the 
grub." 

"So  I  was,  but  I  had  no  dry  wood,  and 
saw  some  near  the  foot  of  the  cliff.  Coming 
to  get  it  I  saw  that  the  ropes  of  the  mules 
had  crossed  this  rock  and  as  they  climbed 
higher  their  ropes  pulled  tighter  and  had 
worn  off  the  moss  which  fell  to  the  ground 
below.  Among  this  moss  there  were  several 
bits  of  whitish  rock  which  seemed  to  be 
quartz.  Then  I  saw  a  spot  high  above  my 
head  that  looked  like  the  small  piece  below, 
and  climbed  to  see,  when  you  came  back  and 
found  me." 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?"  asked  Smith- 
son. 

"Think  of  it?  Why,  man,  we  have  struck 
a  quartz  ledge  with  gold  in  it!  See  that 
shiny  yellow  stuff,  scattered  through  this 
rock!  Can't  you  tell  gold  when  you  see  it?" 

"Yes,  but  perhaps  that's  all  there  is  of  it 
64 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

—what  then?" 

"A  likely  story!  No,  sir,  there's  more 
where  that  comes  from.  Give  me  that  pick ! 
You  scrape  off  the  moss  and  break  up  some 
of  the  rock  as  I  get  it  out,  and  we'll  see  what 
it  looks  like;  but  above  all  things  we  must 
not  forget  to  speak  low,  for  by  Jiminy 
crickets !  we  don't  want  to  see  anyone  around 
here  but  you  and  me." 

"What  about  goin'  to  Skagway  for  the 
freight?" 

"We  won't  go  to-day.  We've  got  enough 
grub  to  last  till  to-morrow.  We'll  work 
right  here." 

They  did  so.  Even  the  mosquitoes  were 
forgotten.  At  noon  they  wondered  what 
made  them  feel  so  faint.  The  bottles  in 
their  "jumper"  pockets  were  empty — they 
had  eaten  nothing  since  the  night  before. 
Both  at  last  decided  to  quit  work  and  pre- 
pare their  meal  before  prospecting  further. 

In  their  eager  efforts  to  get  at  the  width 
of  the  ledge  the  men  afterwards  scraped  off 
the  moss  and  vines,  by  this  means  exposing 
what  appeared  to  be  a  four  foot  vein.  On 
each  side  of  this  vein  ran  a  wall  of  hard, 
dark  rock  they  did  not  recognize,  but  the 
65 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

quartz  was  quartz  and  carried  free  gold; 
and  that  at  present  was  enough  for  them.  In 
their  ignorance  they  knew  nothing  of  which 
way  the  vein  "dipped",  of  what  the  "gangue" 
was  composed,  nor  how  often  and  where 
"faults"  occurred.  The  question  in  hand 
was  the  presence  of  gold  and  the  length, 
width,  and  depth  of  the  quartz  lode.  The 
gold  was  really  there  in  pretty  yellow  streaks 
and  spots,  shining  brightly  in  whichever  way 
it  was  turned. 

Of  course  Roberts  claimed  the  discovery. 
This  angered  his  partner. 

"The  mules  are  the  real  discoverers,"  de- 
clared Smithson  with  spirit,  "and  one  of 
them  is  mine.  You  knew  very  well  that  the 
quartz  was  there  when  you  sent  me  after  the 
animals  so  you  could  prospect  the  place." 

"You're  a  liar,  and  you  know  it!"  retort- 
ed Roberts,  hotly.  "There  is  none  so  sus- 
picious of  others  as  a  rogue.  If  you  under- 
stood mining  laws  you  would  know  that  by 
being  my  partner  one  half  of  all  I  find  is 
yours  without  your  raising  a  finger,  and  you 
could  quit  this  howl  before  beginning.  A 
man  may  be  an  idiot  in  the  States  if  he 
chooses,  but  here  he  needs  all  the  sense  he  was 
66 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

born  with  besides  what  he  can  cultivate." 
With  this  thrust  Roberts  picked  up  his  tools 
to  resume  his  prospecting. 

"I  like  that  first  rate.  It  reminds  me  of 
home  and  Hannah.  I  presume  you  want 
me  to  put  these  things  in  a  grub  box  and  wash 
the  dishes  while  you  go  out  to  prospect  your 
quartz  ledge,  don't  you?"  sneered  Smith- 
son,  in  whose  temper  there  was  little  im- 
provement since  he  had  eaten  because  his 
stock  of  whiskey  and  tobacco  was  exhausted. 

"It  is  almost  as  easy  as  swinging  a  heavy 
iron  pick,  I  reckon,"  replied  Roberts  sar- 
castically. 

With  this  the  men  parted.  A  fresh  dis- 
pute soon  arose,  however,  as  to  whether  the 
ledge  should  be  immediately  staked  or  not. 

"We  would  surely  be  fools  to  go  and 
leave  it  for  others,  especially  as  it  is  uncov- 
ered and  in  plain  sight,"  objected  Smithson. 

"We  will  cover  it  so  that  none  can  find  it. 
If  we  stake  the  ledge  it  must  be  recorded  in 
Skagway,  and  the  moment  we  do  that  our 
secret  is  out.  By  simply  planting  stakes  or 
monuments,  we  cannot  hold  the  ground  from 
others^  but  it  must  be  on  record.  Now  if  we 
stop  here  long  all  these  fellows  on  the  trail 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

will  get  into  Dawson  ahead  of  us  and  gobble 
up  the  claims.  We  started  out  for  placer 
gold— creek  gold— not  quartz  gold  which 
takes  machinery  for  development.  By  go- 
ing to  Dawson  first  we  may  find  enough  to 
allow  of  our  opening  up  this  ledge  in  a  year 
or  two." 

"Well,  I've  always  heard  that  'a  bird  in 
the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush',  and  if 
this  is  true  I  think  we'd  better  stay  right 
here." 

"If  you  knew  more  you  would  kick  less. 
It  takes  a  lot  more  money  to  open  up  quartz 
mines  than  we've  got  or  ever  may  have.  But 
I  see  what  you're  after.  You  want  to  stay 
near  Skagway  and  its  well  warmed  bar- 
rooms, don't  you?"  laughed  Roberts. 

"You  go  to  blazes !" 

"No,  no,  I'm  going  to  Dawson.  But  first 
I  think  we'd  better  drop  this  business  and 
pack  our  supplies  from  Skagway,  don't 
you?"  asked  the  more  sensible  man  of  the 
two. 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Smithson,  who  was  think- 
ing of  his  whiskey  and  tobacco  in  that  place, 
and  of  his  chronic  thirst  which  water  from  the 
mountain  could  not  allay. 
68 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

Before  leaving,  the  new  prospect  hole  was 
hidden  from  the  view  of  stragglers.  A  few 
tall  saplings  were  felled,  which,  with  foliage 
still  upon  them,  were  pushed  over  the  edge 
of  the  cliff  with  stems  downward  in  order 
that  their  leafy  tops  might  rest  against  the 
prospected  rock  and  temporarily  hide  the 
new  discovery.  In  case  anyone  happened 
that  way  it  would  appear  to  them  that  the 
saplings  had  been  felled  and  dropped  over 
the  cliff  for  firewood. 

By  this  time  the  White  Pass  trail  had 
grown  to  be  a  veritable  horror.  Men  were 
ill  and  suffering  from  hard  work  and  expo- 
sure. Animals  lay  dead  at  the  foot  of  cliffs, 
over  the  edges  of  which  they  had  slipped  or 
been  crowded  with  packs  still  strapped  upon 
their  sore  and  bleeding  backs.  Others  lay, 
stripped  of  all  accoutrements,  in  the  hot  sun- 
shine among  the  buzzing  flies,  after  a  broken 
leg  had  necessitated  a  bullet  in  the  head,  thus 
causing  stenches  to  fill  the  nostrils  of  the  al- 
ready suffering  and  oppressed  passersby.  No 
one  had  time  to  bury  animals.  If  a  man  fell 
it  was,  of  course,  obligatory  to  halt  from 
their  "packing"  long  enough  to  dig  a  shallow 
bed  among  the  rocks;  but  this  done,  and  a 
69 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

handful  of  granite  fragments  heaped  above 
his  head,  the  procession  moved  on  as  before. 
No  time  could  be  spared  for  headstone 
marking;  and  long  after  these  strugglers  of 
the  argonauts  on  the  White  Pass  Trail  were 
forgotten  by  all  but  the  participants  (who 
will  never  to  their  dying  day  forget  them) 
these  lonely  mounds  of  the  fallen  men  could 
at  intervals  have  been  seen  flanked  by  bleach- 
ing bones  of  defunct  animals. 

Lonely  indeed  were  these  dreary  resting 
places.  The  scream  of  the  eagle  as  he  easily 
swung  on  powerful  pinions  from  cliff  to  cliff 
on  family  errands  or  to  drink  at  the  foot  of 
some  rushing  cascade  was  the  only  dirge  that 
was  sung.  Ferns  swayed  gently  in  shaded 
nooks,  and  wild  flowers  nodded  familiarly  to 
each  other.  Filmy  winged  bees  flitted  with 
bustling  movement  head  foremost  into  the 
cups  of  bluebells  beneath  skies  as  azure  as 
they,  and  in  atmosphere  as  pure  as  God  could 
make  it. 

In  winter  all  this  was  changed.  Snow  cov- 
ered the  little  mounds  as  well  as  the  whole 
surrounding  region;  and  intermittently  the 
falling  flakes  whirled  and  drifted  into  ravines 
and  canyons,  making  them  level  with  the  steep 
70 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

mountain-sides;  presently  melting  under  the 
sunshine  and  beginning  a  race  to  the  sea. 

However,  the  argonauts  hurried  on.  They 
were  not  here  to  moralize — they  had  some- 
thing else  to  do. 

As  the  two  men  proceeded,  making  numer- 
ous trips  with  the  freight  laden  mules  between 
camps,  they  found,  much  to  their  disappoint- 
ment, that,  without  assistance,  they  would  not 
be  able  to  reach  Lake  Bennett  in  time  to  build 
a  boat  and  make  their  way  into  the  Klondyke 
before  being  overtaken  by  winter. 

In  order  to  proceed  faster  it  would  be 
necessary  to  hire  Indian  packers  to  help  them 
over  the  summit  of  the  Pass,  else  the  sun  of 
another  summer  would  see  them  still  wearily 
toiling  on  that  terrible  trail. 

Indians  were  then  hired.  The  great  moun- 
tain tops,  bald  of  everything  save  boulders 
and  a  few  saucer-shaped  lakelets  reflecting  in 
their  cold  depths  the  floating  clouds  above, 
seemed  now  for  the  first  time  to  encourage 
the  harassed  and  footsore  travelers. 

Soon  they  were  cheered  by  entering  a  for- 
est. Here  was  fuel  in  abundance,  and  shelter, 
at  least  partial,  from  frosts  and  rain.  Below, 
the  green  and  level  "meadows"  beckoned  to 
71 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

them,  and  still  farther  the  shining  waters  of 
Bennett.  But  trail  troubles  would  soon  for 
them  be  over,  and  with  lighter  hearts,  though 
with  weary  feet  and  backs,  they  stumbled  on  in 
their  eagerness  to  reach  the  long  waterway 
which  was  to  guide  them  into  the  promised 
land. 

Beautiful  Bennett!  How  pure  its  waters, 
and  how  clean  its  sands  !  With  what  maiden- 
ly modesty  it  nestles  in  the  rugged  arms  of  its 
lovers,  the  sky-piercing  mountains  ! 

Tents  were  everywhere.  Cabins  rose  in  a 
night.  In  surrounding  thickets  were  the  axes 
of  men  heard,  felling  trees  for  boat-building. 
Night  and  day  this  continued,  and  turns  were 
taken  at  sleeping  in  order  that  the  work  might 
not  be  stopped;  indeed,  some  men  seemed 
never  to  sleep,  so  intent  were  they  on  making 
an  early  entrance  into  the  gold  fields  ahead. 

Not  so,  Smithson.  He  slept  more  than  ever. 
His  bottle  made  him  drowsy.  It  did  not  in- 
crease the  sweetness  of  his  naturally  selfish 
disposition,  which  under  the  delays,  hardships, 
and  extra  expense  of  their  journey  had  rather 
increased  his  laziness  and  stubbornness. 

Nothing  Roberts  did  pleased  him.  They 
often  came  to  words,  but  never  to  blows  in  an 
72 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

argument,  for  sooner  than  do  this  Roberts 
would  turn  on  his  heel  and  leave  his  partner 
to  fall  asleep  and  thus  escape  his  burden  of 
the  work. 

"Come  now,"  said  Roberts  one  morning, 
"our  boat  is  nearly  finished  and  we  ought  to 
be  off  and  away  in  about  two  days.  You  can 
surely  do  the  caulking  of  seams,  after  which 
I'll  paint  her." 

"I  never  caulked  a  boat  in  my  life,  and  I 
think  it  a  poor  time  to  begin,"  said  Smithson. 
"If  it  isn't  done  right  all  hands  may  go  to 
the  bottom.  You  better  get  someone  else  to 
do  it." 

"There  is  nobody  but  me  to  do  it  unless  we 
pay  ten  dollars  a  day,  and  we  can't  afford  that. 
I've  done  most  of  the  work  so  far,  and  I  think 
you  might  take  hold  now  like  a  man  if  you 
never  do  again,"  argued  Roberts. 

The  words  "like  a  man"  nettled  Smithson. 
He  resented  the  inference  that  he  was  not 
manly.  Seizing  his  hat  he  shambled  off  toward 
the  beach  where  the  boat  was  in  process  of 
construction. 

His  heart  was  filled  with  anger.  He  began 
fairly  to  hate  Roberts.  He  had  no  right  to 
order  him  around,  and  he  hated  to  leave  that 
73 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

quartz  ledge.  If  Roberts  were  only  out  of  his 
way  the  hidden  ledge  would  all  be  his  own. 
He  had  pondered  this  many  times  when  his 
working  partner  supposed  him  sleeping.  Only 
for  Roberts  he  could  sell  the  boat  and  supplies 
for  double  their  cost,  return  to  Skagway,  and 
build  a  cabin  near  the  quartz  ledge,  thus  es- 
caping the  long  and  dangerous  trip  down  the 
lakes  and  rivers  as  well  as  the  awful  Arctic 
winter  which  he  more  and  more  dreaded  in 
the  Klondyke.  On  the  south  side  of  the  moun- 
tains the  weather  would  be  more  mild;  he 
would  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  another 
partner,  if  not  of  his  own  sex,  then  the  other 
—why  not?  he  asked  himself.  The  owner  of 
a  ledge  like  that  one  might  afford  luxuries 
beyond  those  of  the  common  people.  In  this 
way  he  ruminated,  standing  with  his  hands  in 
pockets  alongside  the  boat  he  was  expected  to 
finish  by  caulking. 

Smithson  hated  work.  Why  should  he 
work?  There  was  enough  gold  in  the  big 
ledge  on  the  other  side  of  the  summit  to  keep 
him  as  long  as  he  lived  if  he  could  have  the 
whole  and  manage  it  to  suit  himself.  Could 
a  boat  be  caulked  lightly  in  spots,  he  won- 
dered, so  that  such  weak  places  might  be  plug- 
74 


ged  at  the  proper  moment  afterwards,  making 
it  fill  with  water  and  sink  with  its  freight? 

It  might  be  done,  but  that  would  be  bad 
policy,  for  freight  landed  even  this  far  had 
cost  large  sums  of  money;  farther  on  it  would 
be  worth  more  and  could  be  sold  for  many 
times  what  they  had  paid  for  it  at  starting; 
but  men  were  far  too  plenty.  One  man  would 
not  be  missed.  It  might  be  managed,  per- 
haps, and  he  decided  to  do  the  caulking  as  re- 
quested by  Roberts. 

An  hour  later  a  fair  beginning  had  been 
made.  A  fire  was  built  over  which  the  smoke 
of  melting  pitch  ascended,  while  oakum  was 
filling  the  seams  of  the  boat's  sides  under  the 
hands  of  the  new  ship-builder. 

Smithson  could  work  if  he  liked.  When 
his  partner,  after  taking  a  much  needed  rest 
and  nap,  came  out  to  see  how  the  business  was 
progressing  he  was  well  pleased.  The  work 
appeared  satisfactory. 

"I'm  afraid  you'll  be  sick,  old  fellow,  after 
such  exertion  as  this,"  laughed  he  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  "for  you're  breaking  your 
record,  sure;  but  keep  right  on;  I'll  get  paint 
and  brushes  in  readiness  to  start  my  job  the 
moment  you've  done.  The  sun  will  soon  dry 
75 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

all  thoroughly,"  and  he  hastened  back  to  their 
tent. 

For  reply  the  new  workman  only  lighted 
his  pipe.  His  mind  was  busy  and  he  needed 
a  nerve-quieter.  The  train  of  thought  in  which 
he  had  just  indulged  was  strange,  and  rather 
disquieting — altogether  he  needed  the  smoke. 

The  common  industry  at  Bennett  was  now 
the  launching  of  boats.  Hundreds  of  frail 
and  faulty  craft  were  started  upon  their  long 
voyage  to  the  Klondyke  laden  with  freight 
to  the  water's  edge.  Men  who  had  never 
before  used  a  saw,  axe,  or  plane,  here  built 
boats  and  sailed  courageously  away. 

Smithson  and  Roberts  had  done  the  same. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon.  The  storm 
clouds  were  rapidly  gathering  overhead. 
The  men  had  raised  a  sail  and  were  scud- 
ding northward  before  the  wind  towards 
Caribou.  If  they  could  make  the  crossing 
that  night,  Roberts  said,  they  would  be  in 
luck.  To  sleep  on  shore  and  sail  again  next 
morning  was  his  plan. 

Night  came  on.  No  other  craft  was  near. 
The  wind  flapped  their  small  sail  and  the 
yardarm  wobbled  badly.  Roberts  sat  in  the 
stern. 

76 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

"Mind  the  sail,  there,  Smithson,  and  pull 
that  tarpaulin  over  the  grub  pile,  for  by  Jin- 
go !  we're  goin'  to  catch  it  now!"  as  the  cold 
rain  dashed  full  against  their  faces,  and  they 
both  crouched  lower  in  the  boat. 

"Haul  in  the  sail!"  shouted  Roberts,  an 
instant  later  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and 
Smithson  arose  presumedly  to  obey. 

"Haul  in  the  sail!"  repeated  Roberts 
while  tending  the  rudder,  as  the  other  hesi- 
tated. 

With  that  the  man  addressed  moved,  but 
not  in  the  way  expected.  He  grasped  the 
yardarm  and  swung  it  suddenly  and  heavily 
around  against  Roberts. 

Instantly  the  side  of  the  little  craft  dipped 
low,  shipping  water,  but  the  roar  of  the  gale 
drowned  the  noise  of  a  sudden  splash.  A 
cry  of  horror,  the  flash  of  two  hands  in  the 
water,  and  the  boat  sped  madly  away  on  her 
course. 

Ten  minutes  later  the  white  capped  wa- 
ters tossed  a  boat  upon  the  beach  near  Cari- 
bou. Its  one  occupant  looked  wildly  around 
in  the  darkness  but  presently  managed  to 
make  a  fire  by  which  to  warm  and  dry  him- 
self. 

77 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

He  muttered  incoherently  meanwhile. 

"I  didn't  do  it— 'twas  the  wind— dark  and 
wild— couldn't  stop  the  boat— terrible  storm 
— two  hands  in  the  water— Jove!  where's 
that  whiskey?"  and  he  fumbled  among  the 
supplies  under  the  tarpaulin.  When  he  had 
found  it  and  drunk  deeply  he  felt  stronger 
and  replenished  the  fire. 

"The  ledge!  The  hidden  ledge !  It's  all 
mine  now,  yes,  mine,  mine!"  and  he  hugged 
himself  in  his  greedy,  guilty  joy. 

"To-morrow  I'll  sell  the  grub  and  back- 
track to  the  coast  to  guard  it." 

The  storm  died  away  and  the  cold,  bright 
moon  shone  searchingly.  The  man  lay  down 
in  the  boat  to  rest,  pulling  his  furs  and  tar- 
paulin over  him. 

Sleep  did  not  immediately  come  at  his 
bidding.  He  saw  and  heard  affrighting 
things.  The  rush  and  roar  of  the  elements 
— two  hands  flashing  out  of  the  ink-black  wa- 
ter—the cry  of  horror— but  he  wanted  to 

forget,  and  at  last,  in  spite  of  all,  he  slept. 

******** 

An  Indian  guide  trudged  heavily  up  the 
long    trail    toward   the    summit.      He    was 
closely  followed  by  a  white  man  and  both 
78 


THE  HIDDEN  LEDGE 

were  headed  southward.  The  guide  carried 
a  heavy  pack  on  his  back,  but  the  white  man 
was  "traveling  light." 

When  night  came  they  camped  and 
rested;  amusing  themselves  for  a  while  with 
a  poker  game.  Black  bottles  kept  them  com- 
pany. At  last  trouble  arose  over  the  cards. 
Smithson  had  indiscreetly  allowed  his  guide 
a  glimpse  of  his  money  belt,  and  though  the 
white  man  was  well  armed,  in  a  moment  of 
forgetfulness  he  allowed  the  native  to  pass 
behind  him;  when  a  sudden  shot  and  thud 
upon  the  ground  quickly  settled  forever  all 
scores  between  them. 

An  Indian  seldom  smiles. 

This  one  smiled  gloomily  now;  muttering 
as  he  wiped  the  revolver  in  his  hand: 

"Him  bad  white  man  yesterday, — good 
man  now, — heap  long  time  sleep." 

Half  an  hour  later  the  sure-footed  Indian 
cautiously  made  his  way  along  the  trail. 
Stars  twinkled  overhead.  A  well  filled  money 
belt,  a  revolver,  and  blankets  ornamented  his 
person,  though  only  the  latter  were  visible. 

The  "Hidden  Ledge"  was  close  at  hand, 
but  unknowingly  he  passed  it  by;  its  secret 
having  been,  for  the  present,  buried  with  the 
79 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

two  partners  who  were  numbered  among  the 
strenuous  stampeders  on  the  White  Pass 
Trail. 


80 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  NEW  KLONDYKE 


1 


"*t  WO  miners  sat  smoking  in  a  small 
log  cabin  in  Dawson.  They  were 
hardy  young  fellows,  and  used 
the  accent  of  born  Canadians. 
They  were  brothers,  and  the  eld- 
er was  speaking. 

"What's  the  use  of  our  hanging  'round 
here  all  winter  doing  nothing?  The  best 
creeks  are  all  staked,  and  there  isn't  the  ghost 
of  a  show  for  us  to  get  any  first  class  ground 
hereabouts.  Let's  light  out,  blaze  a  new  trail 
for  ourselves,  and  prospect  in  the  likeliest 
places  during  the  winter  instead  of  idling 
away  our  time  here,  eating  up  high-priced 
grub  and  hating  ourselves.  I'm  sick  of  this 
camp.  What  do  you  say?" 
"Which  way  shall  we  go?" 
"Any  old  way.  No,  it  would  be  better  to 
have  some  definite  idea  of  the  point  we  wish 
to  reach,  of  course.  We  might  make  for  the 
headwaters  of  the  Klondyke  and  then  east 
into  the  unknown  country  where  only  a  few 
poor  Indians  live." 

81 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"They  might  prove  ugly.    What  then?" 

"We  could  manage  them.  We  would  take 
plenty  of  grub  and  ammunition,  and  a  couple 
of  white  men,  at  least,  with  us." 

"What  makes  you  think  there's  gold  there? 
It  wouldn't  pay  us  to  risk  our  lives  for  noth- 
ing in  such  a  wilderness.  I  would  be  willing 
to  go  if  I  thought  our  time  and  efforts  might 
turn  up  something  good." 

"I  have  been  watching  the  Indians  who 
come  here  for  supplies  from  that  direction, 
and  they  are  far  from  penniless.  They  carry 
good-sized  pokes  of  nuggets  and  dust  which 
they  use  in  trading.  They  must  get  these  from 
some  of  the  creeks  over  east,"  said  the  elder 
of  the  two  men. 

"They  are  mum  as  oysters;  one  can't  get 
any  information  from  them." 

"What'll  you  bet  I  can't?" 

"A  box  of  cigars,"  laughed  the  younger, 
whose  name  seemed  appropriately  bestowed, 
for  it  was  Thomas,  and  he  often  doubted. 

With  that  George  MacDougall  drew  on 
his  fur  coat  and  mittens  and  quitted  the  cabin. 
He  would  find  a  certain  long  haired  Indian  he 
had  seen  that  day,  and  prove  to  his  brother 
that  he  was  not  simply  a  boaster. 
82 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

It  was  early  in  the  evening;  but  for  the 
matter  of  that,  the  hour  made  little  difference, 

for  time  slipped  by  unreckoned  in  the  Klon- 
dyke  in  winter.  Night  was  more  often  than 
not  turned  into  day  by  the  restless  denizens 
of  the  mining  camp,  and  belated  breakfast 
sometime  the  following  afternoon  was  the 
sequel. 

Just  now  the  moon  shown  brightly  above 
the  camp,  the  deep  frozen  river  and  the  high 
hills.  George  MacDougall  could  plainly  hear 
the  loud  talking  and  shouts  of  those  bent  on 
dissipation  while  crossing  the  ice  by  dog-team 
to  West  Dawson.  Glancing  in  that  direction 
he  saw  the  brilliantly  lighted  dance-house  and 
saloon,  whose  blare  of  brassy  instruments 
reached  his  unwilling  ears  at  that  distance; 
the  still,  cold  air  of  an  Arctic  night  being  a 
perfect  conductor  of  sound.  Under  the  shel- 
tering, furry  fringe  of  his  cap  his  forehead 
gathered  itself  into  a  scowl. 

'  "What  fools!"  he  muttered.  "If  one  must 
carouse  why  come  here?  That  sort  of  thing 
can  be  done  on  the  'outside',  but  in  here  where 
grub  is  worth  its  weight  in  gold,  and  none  ex- 
pect comforts,  why  waste  time?  We  came 
here  for  that  we  cannot  obtain  in  the  States 
83 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

—at  least  I  did— for  gold,— gold,  and  I'll 
have  it,  too,  by  Gad !"  Then  pricking  up  his 
ears  again  at  the  end  of  his  soliloquy,  he  lis- 
tened and  laughed  aloud. 

"Hear  those  malamute  cusses !  How 
they  do  whoop  it  up,  to  be  sure,"  as  a  fam- 
iliar canine  chorus  surged  clearcut  through 
the  frosty  air.  "I'd  rather  listen  any  time  to 
the  brutes  zig-zagging  up  and  down  their 
scales  than  to  the  giggling  'box  rustlers' 
from  the  Monte  Carlo  crossing  yonder  to 
the  dance-house;  but  where's  that  blooming 
Indian,  I  wonder?  I  must  find  him,"  and 
the  stalwart  Canadian  moved  on  more 
quickly  up  the  main  street. 

An  hour  later  he  again  smoked  in  his 
cabin  with  his  brother.  Opposite  them  sat  an 
Indian  with  long,  black  hair.  The  latter 
held  in  his  hand  a  whiskey  glass,  now  almost 
drained,  the  contents  of  which  had  no  doubt 
called  up  the  good-humored  expression  at 
the  corners  of  the  native's  habitually  un- 
smiling mouth. 

The  Canadians  smoked;  their  chair-backs 

tilted  against  the  wall.    There  was  no  hurry. 

The  elder  MacDougall  re-filled  the  Indian's 

glass  with  liquor,  and  leisurely  and  carefully 

84 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

knocking  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  placed  it 
upon  a  shelf.  He  then  took  from  an  inside 
pocket  a  half  dozen  cigars  of  reputable 
brand  and  placed  one  between  his  lips,  by 
chance,  probably,  glancing  toward  his  visi- 
tor, whose  fingers  now  twitched  at  sight  of 
the  much  relished  tobacco  stick. 

"Plenty  gold  where  you  come  from?" 
carelessly  interrogated  MacDougall,  his 
eyes  on  the  lighted  end  of  his  cigar,  and 
flirting  away  the  match  he  had  been  using. 

"Yes,"  grunted  the  Indian  in  answer. 

"Can  we  find  it,  too,  Pete?"  queried  the 
white  man,  at  the  same  moment  holding  one 
of  the  cigars  toward  his  visitor,  who  eagerly 
seized  it. 

"I  tink." 

"Will  you  show  us  a  gold  creek,  Pete?" 
continued  the  patiently  questioning  Cana- 
dian. 

"How  much  you  give?" 

"I'll  give  you  a  gallon  of  whiskey  and  a 
box  of  good  cigars  if  you  will  take  me  with 
my  brother  here  to  your  gold  creek,  or  any 
gold  creek  that  is  not  taken  up  by  white  men 
already.  Understand,  Pete?" 

The  Indian  nodded.  He  loved  liquor  bet- 
85 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

ter  than  gold,  but  Yukon  authorities  had  pro- 
hibited the  sale  of  the  stuff  to  Indians,  and 
strictly  enforced  the  law,  so,  though  he  had 
attempted  in  various  ways  to  purchase  it  in 
Dawson  he  had  not  been  successful.  Here 
was  the  offer  of  a  whole  gallon  in  exchange 
for  gold  so  far  away  that  the  white  man 
would  probably  die  before  he  reached  it, 
even  if  he  attempted  to  cover  the  distance; 
and  the  Indian  acquiesced  in  the  bargain. 

Thomas  MacDougall  wanted  to  be  shown 
some  of  Pete's  gold,  and  so  remarked; where- 
upon the  latter  thrust  his  hand  into  his  trou- 
ser's  pockets,  well  hidden  by  the  fur  parkie 
he  wore,  took  out  a  poke  and  threw  it  upon 
the  table.  When  Thomas  had  untied  the 
string  and  held  the  moose-hide  sack  by  its 
two  lower  corners  bottom  upwards  there 
clattered  out  upon  the  boards  enough  of 
good-sized  golden  nuggets  to  cause  the  eyes 
of  the  doubter  to  sparkle  with  interest. 

"Are  you  sure  you  did  not  steal  these 
from  some  white  man's  cabin  on  Bonanza  or 
Eldorado,  Pete?"  queried  the  skeptic 
Thomas. 

"No   steal    'um,— catch    'um   big   crik,— 
plent'  gold,— heap.    You  sabee?" 
86 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

Thomas  understood,  but  only  partly  be- 
lieved. His  brother  argued  that  it  was  a 
case  of  "nothing  venture,  nothing  have"  and 
he  would  take  the  risk  and  follow  Pete  into 
the  wintry  wilderness. 

If  indecision  is  a  sign  of  weak  minds  then 
there  are  but  few  feeble-minded  men  in  an 
Alaskan  gold  camp.  Here  men  decide  mat- 
ters quickly.  It  is  touch  and  go  with  them. 
This  trip  might  mean  the  end  of  all  things 
earthly  to  the  two  MacDougalls,  but  they 
determined  to  make  the  venture.  They 
might  fail  of  finding  gold  in  quantities,  but 
that  was  their  fate  if  they  remained  in  Daw- 
son.  They  could  die  but  once.  Having 
risked  so  much,  and  come  so  far  already,  it 
was  small  effort  to  stake  still  more  of  time, 
effort  and  money,  and  they  decided  to  follow 
Pete. 

A  week  later  the  two  brothers,  (their 
company  augmented  by  two  white  men  and 
as  many  Indians,  besides  long-haired  Pete, 
the  guide)  might  have  been  seen  slowly  but 
carefully  making  their  way  through  the 
snowy  hill  region  of  the  headwaters  of  the 
Klondyke  River.  Mapped  carelessly,  as  it 
often  is,  this  appears  a  small  and  unpretend- 
87 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

ing  stream;  but  to  the  Indian  or  prospector 
who  has  tracked  its  length  from  a  small 
creeklet  at  starting  to  a  wide  and  rushing 
mouth  emptying  its  pure  waters  into  the 
muddy  Yukon,  it  has  a  good  length  of  sev- 
eral hundred  miles,  and  must  not  be  lightly 
mentioned.  On  its  "left  limit"  were  Bon- 
anza and  Eldorado  Creeks  where  men 
with  underground  fires  burning  both  night 
and  day  tried  with  puny  strength  to  check- 
mate the  stubborn  ice  king  in  order  to  add  to 
the  dumps  to  be  hopefully  washed  out  in  the 
springtime.  Though  they  burned  their  eyes 
from  their  sockets  in  these  pestilential  smoke 
holes,  and  though  from  badly  cooked  and 
scanty  meals  their  blackened  limbs  made 
declaration  that  the  dreaded  scurvy  was 
upon  them;  still  there  were  always  men  eager 
to  fill  the  places  of  those  who  succumbed, 
and  the  work  went  on. 

There  were  creeks  called  Bear,  Rock, 
Benson,  Wolf,  Gnat  and  Fox,  which  with 
Nello,  Arizona,  and  many  more,  went  to 
make  up  the  far-famed  Klondyke  River. 

Now  all  were  fast  frozen.  Snow  lay  deep 
upon  the  ice.  No  babbling  of  hurrying  wa- 
ters over  pebbly  creek  beds  was  heard,  but 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

instead,  the  axe  of  the  solitary  miner  at 
wood  chopping  on  the  banks  of  silent 
streams. 

As  the  short  days  passed,  and  the  small 
caravan  forged  on,  the  smoke  of  white  men's 
cabins  was  more  seldom  seen;  until  finally 
the  last  one  was  pointed  out  by  Indian  Pete, 
and  it  was  soon  left  far  behind. 

Shorter  grew  the  daylight  hours.  Pro- 
ceeding they  were  forced  to  break  trails,  al- 
though their  guide  appeared  familiar  with 
the  region  and  was  heading  toward  the  best 
and  easiest  pass  in  the  Rockies.  This  tedious 
snow  waste  once  crossed,  their  way  to  the 
great  lakes  was  comparatively  clear. 

They  soon  learned  to  travel  as  well  in  the 
dusky  snow-light  as  by  daylight,  and  en- 
joyed it  better,  for  there  was  no  glare  of 
the  sun  on  the  white  mantled  earth.  Their 
dog-teams  were  good  ones,  and  a  source  of 
comfort  to  the  travelers  whose  experience 
with  this  mode  of  migration  was  limited. 
While  the  weary  men  slept  in  their  little 
tents  by  night  the  malamutes  howled  and 
rested  at  intervals.  If  one  happened  to  be 
startled  by  a  bad  dream  he  immediately 
communicated  the  fact  to  his  neighbors,  of 
89 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

whom  there  were  more  than  thirty,  and  they, 
either  from  sympathetic  interest  in  a  brother, 
or  because  they  resented  being  waked  thus 
unceremoniously  in  the  midst  of  enjoyable 
naps,  began  echoing  their  sentiments  in  the 
most  lugubrious  manner.  To  all  sorts  of 
notes  in  the  musical  scale  the  voices  of  these 
dogs  ranged,  they  seeming  to  spare  no  pains 
to  give  varied  entertainment.  How  these 
creatures  work  so  hard,  eat  and  sleep  so  lit- 
tle, howl  so  much,  and  keep  in  good  condi- 
tion, is  ever  an  unsolvable  riddle;  but  they 
are  usually  docile,  pleasant  of  disposition, 
and  ready  for  any  task. 

The  MacDougall  party  treated  their  ani- 
mals kindly.  Men  must  reasonably  do  this 
in  self  defense.  That  a  brow-beaten  dog 
gives  up  and  drops  from  the  race  through 
sheer  discouragement  often  happens;  but 
well  fed  and  with  considerate  treatment  a 
malamute  will  bravely  work  to  the  last  mo- 
ment. 

A  few  hundred  miles  farther  east  and 
these  dogs  would  be  exchanged  for  "Hud- 
son Bay  huskies",  or  sent  back  over  the 
trail  to  Dawson  to  be  sold.  In  case  the 
MacDougalls  "struck  it  rich"  in  the  Indian 
90 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

country  it  was  imperative  that  they  be  pro- 
vided with  huskies,  but  for  the  present  the 
"malamute  made  much  music",  as  Tom  Mac- 
Dougall  laughingly  remarked. 

One  day  the  party  came  upon  the  fresh 
tracks  of  a  caribou.  Made  by  good-sized 
hoofs,  the  animal  had  gone  toward  the 
south  apparently  in  great  haste.  In  a  mo- 
ment Pete  was  off  with  his  rifle  to  the  near- 
est hill-top,  steathily  but  rapidly  treading  the 
soft,  deep  snow.  The  elder  MacDougall 
shouldered  his  gun  and  followed  the  trail  of 
the  animal  whose  flesh  he  coveted  as  a  feast- 
ing dish  after  living  so  long  upon  dried  fish 
and  bacon. 

For  more  than  an  hour  the  Canadian 
tracked  his  game.  Pete,  from  the  hill-top, 
had  sighted  a  tiny  thread  of  blue  smoke  ris- 
ing from  the  valley  on  the  other  side,  and 
knew  that  Indians,  probably  Peel  River  men, 
were  also  upon  the  track  of  the  animal,  when 
instantly  his  enthusiasm  in  the  chase  cooled. 

He  decided  to  follow  MacDougall.  If 
these  were  the  Peel  River  Indians  they  were 
far  from  their  own  hunting  grounds,  and 
must  have  driven  big  game  into  this  vicinity 
which  they  were  loath  to  abandon.  In  case 
91 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

that  MacDougall  should  bring  down  the  car- 
ibou he  might  get  into  trouble,  and  Pete 
hastened  on. 

The  cold,  crisp  air  was  intensely  still.  As 
he  proceeded,  with  alert  ears,  he  heard  a 
shot,  angry  voices  in  altercation,  and  a  sec- 
ond shot,  when  the  now  thoroughly  awak- 
ened Indian  hurried  on  in  the  footprints  of 
the  Canadian. 

One  of  the  hunters  would  probably  hunt 
no  more;  but  which  one  was  it? 

He  was  not  long  in  doubt.  Coming  sud- 
denly upon  them  he  discovered  that  his  fears 
were  realized. 

MacDougall  stood  sternly  regarding  a 
fur-dressed  Indian  lying  dead  upon  the  snow. 
He  and  Pete  exchanged  glances. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Pete. 

"He  jumped  upon  me  and  declared  the 
caribou  was  his.  I  told  him  it  was  mine, 
when  he  pulled  his  gun  and  I  shot  him— 
that's  all,"  said  MacDougall. 

"That's  plent',"  tersely  from  Pete.  Then 
casting  his  eye  over  the  sky  he  said:  "Snow 
cum  quick,— hide  um.  We  cut  caribou," 
whereupon  he  whipped  out  a  big  hunting 
knife,  after  placing  his  rifle  in  the  crotch  of 
92 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

a  tree,  and  began  slashing  the  still  warm 
body  of  the  big  caribou. 

MacDougall  followed  suit.  It  was  not 
long  before  the  two  had  selected  and  cut 
away  the  choice  parts  of  the  carcass,  and 
with  as  much  of  the  meat  as  they  could  han- 
dle, made  their  way  back  to  camp.  Pete  and 
his  Indians,  with  dog-teams,  were  dispatched 
to  the  scene  of  the  double  tragedy  for  the 
remainder. 

The  dead  Indian  was  left  as  he  fell,  and 
falling  snow  soon  covered  him. 

That  night  the  Canadians  pushed  on 
without  resting,  laden  with  as  much  meat  as 
they  could  carry.  It  was  thought  safest  not 
tD  remain  long  in  the  vicinity,  as  some  of 
tne  Peel  River  Indians  might  track  the  mur- 
derer of  their  brother. 

The  dogs  had  feasted  on  caribou  as  well 
as  the  men,  and  all  could  return  to  the  long 
trail  with  redoubled  energy.  More  large 
game  was  seen,  and  from  this  on  there  was 
no  lack  of  venison. 

Ptarmigan,  too,  made  a  variety  of  eating. 
The  snow-white  beauties  were  never  tired 
of,  but  furnished  food  equally  as  good  as 
the  caribou.  The  miners  were  given  a  pleas- 

93 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

ant  surprise  one  evening  when  George  Mac- 
Dougall  cleaned  the  birds  for  his  breakfast. 
Three  or  four  peculiar  looking  pebbles 
rolled  out  of  the  craw  of  the  bird  he  was 
handling  and  fell  upon  the  ground.  Stoop- 
ing, he  picked  them  up. 

"'Gad!     What's  this?" 

"He  then  made  an  examination. 

"Here  you,  Indian!  Get  some  ice  and 
melt  it.  I  want  to  wash  these  stones.  If 
they  are  stones,  I'll  eat  'em.  I  believe 
they're  gold  nuggets,"  he  added  to  his 
brother,  at  which  the  latter  crawled  out  of 
his  fur  sleeping  bag  to  investigate. 

They  were  now  in  a  gold-bearing  country. 
Of  this  MacDougall  felt  assured.  The  nug- 
gets found  in  the  craw  of  the  ptarmigan, 
though  not  large,  were  of  pure  gold,  and 
once  clean  of  filth  looked  good  to  the  eyes  of 
the  patient  prospectors.  They  had  certainly 
come  from  the  bars  of  some  stream,  which, 
in  an  exposed  place,  had  been  wind-swept, 
furnishing  the  grouse  a  late  feeding  ground 
when  tundra  berries  were  covered  with  snow. 
To  be  sure,  not  much  nourishment  could 
have  been  gotten  from  the  nuggets,  but  the 
latter  had  answered  the  purpose  of  pebbles 
94 


in  mastication  processes. 

After  this  MacDougall  kept  more  hope- 
fully on.  Each  bird  shot  was  examined, 
and  many  carried  their  own  savings  bank 
with  them .  No  better  indications  were 
wanted  of  the  contents  of  the  creeks  of  the 
region. 

The  gold  was  surely  there. 

Finally,  after  six  cold  and  weary  weeks, 
during  which  time  much  of  hope  and  fear 
had  constantly  alternated  in  the  breasts  of 
the  two  Canadians  and  their  men,  notwith- 
standing the  reiterated  affirmative  state- 
ments of  the  Indians ;  Pete  grunted  with  sat- 
isfaction and  pointed  to  a  nearby  forest. 

"Indian  cabins  over  there,"  said  he. 
"Two  sleeps  cum  rich  crik." 

"I  hope  so,  Pete,"  MacDougall  had  re- 
plied, being  tired  and  hungry. 

Only  twice  on  their  long  trip  had  they 
come  upon  small  Indian  settlements,  and 
then  a  few  hours'  rest  within  the  crowded 
and  stifling  huts  satisfied  them  to  resume 
their  march.  The  air  outside,  if  cold,  was 
pure,  sweet  and  invigorating,  and  these 
hardy,  fur  clad  men  were  now  accustomed 
to  it  and  enjoyed  it. 

95 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

A  fresh  surprise  awaited  them  at  Pete's 
house.  A  good,  large,  log  cabin  of  two 
rooms,  lined  from  top  to  bottom  with  the 
furs  of  animals,  and  ornamented  with  ant- 
lers and  similar  trophies  of  the  chase,  made 
a  warm  and  comfortable  home  compared  to 
that  which  the  white  men  had  expected  to 
find.  A  pleasant-faced  squaw  and  several 
small  children  retreated  to  the  inner  room 
upon  the  entrance  of  the  men  from  the  trail. 
While  Pete  greeted  his  family,  the  visitors 
made  notes  and  discussed  the  surprising  situ- 
ation. 

"Gee  Whiz!     Who'd  a  thought  it?" 

"I  thought  Pete  lived  in  an  ice  hut,  or  a 
teepee  made  of  skins  and  sticks,"  said  one. 

"A  filthy  hole  in  the  ground  was  what  I 
thought  we'd  find,"  declared  another. 

"We're  right  in  civilization !"  exclaimed  a 
fourth,  slapping  his  knee  in  delight. 

"A  music  box,  as  I  live!"  eyeing  an  old 
accordian  in  a  corner. 

"Well,  I  snum !" 

The  men  were  all  talking  at  once. 

"I'd  like  to  take  a  smoke,  but  don't  dare," 
said  Tom  MacDougall,  demurely,  with  a 
wink. 

96 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

"I  fancy  it  might  injure  the  lace  curtains," 
laughed  his  brother,  who  looked  as  well 
pleased  as  any  of  the  group,  while  touching 
the  bit  of  calico  draping  at  the  tiny  window. 

But  Pete  was  now  going  out  of  doors  and 
they  all  trooped  after  him.  Surrounding  the 
Indian  they  plied  him  with  a  hundred  ques- 
tions. They  wanted  to  know  where  he  and 
his  squaw  had  learned  to  make  a  home  like 
this, — where  he  got  so  much  of  civilization, 
—who  had  taught  his  squaw  to  keep  house, 
—who  played  the  accordian, — where  he  got 
tools  to  work  with,  and  many  other  things; 
above  all,  where  he  bought  certain  acces- 
sories to  his  cabin  which  they  had  never  seen 
in  Dawson. 

Flinging,  as  they  did,  all  these  questions 
at  the  poor  fellow  in  a  breath,  MacDoug- 
all  feared  he  would  be  stalled  for  replies, 
and  finally  halted  for  him  to  make  a  begin- 
ning; but  Pete  only  remarked  quietly,  twitch- 
ing his  thumb  toward  the  southeast: 

"Fort  by  big  lake.  White  man,— mission, 
—teach  um  Indian,"  unconcernedly,  as 
though  it  was  of  every  day  occurrence,  and 
there  was  no  further  explanation  necessary. 

"Do  they  talk  as  we  do?"  asked  Mac- 
97 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

Dougall. 

"No." 

"What  do  you  call  them?" 

"Father  Petroff,— teach  um.  Indian  sick, 
—fix  um.  Heap  good  man,"  and  Pete  turn- 
ed away,  thinking  this  sufficient. 

"Ask  him  how  far  it  is  to  the  Fort,  Mac," 
said  one  of  the  men. 

"Not  now.  He  has  had  enough  quizzing 
for  this  time.  It  is  evidently  a  Russian  Mis- 
sion on  one  of  the  big  lakes, — which  mission, 
and  what  lake,  I  don't  know.  But  we  must 
pitch  our  tents,  cook  our  supper,  and  feed 
the  dogs.  Poor  fellows !  They  shall  have  a 
good  long  rest  soon  for  they've  well  earned 
it,"  and  George  MacDougall  patted  the 
snow  white  head  of  the  nearest  malamute 
looking  up  into  his  face  for  sympathy. 

Next  day  the  men  had  eaten,  slept  and 
rested.  They  had  listened  the  evening  be- 
fore to  the  old  accordian  in  the  hands  of 
Pete's  wife;  they  had  trotted  the  infant  of 
the  family  on  their  knees;  they  had  pro- 
pounded another  hundred  questions  to  their 
uncommunicative  host  and  gotten  monsylla- 
bic  answers;  but  they  had  heard  only  that 
which  was  good  to  hear,  and  that  which  con- 
98 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

firmed  the  leader  in  his  mind  that  he  had 
made  a  capital  move  in  coming  into  this 
country  with  the  Indians. 

Pete  had  exhibited  nuggets  and  gold  dust 
of  astonishing  richness.  Kicking  a  bear  skin 
from  the  center  of  the  room,  he  disclosed  a 
box  embedded  in  the  earth,  the  sight  of 
which,  when  uncovered,  caused  the  white 
men  to  feel  repaid  for  coming.  There  were 
chunks  and  hunks  of  the  precious  yellow 
metal  larger  than  the  thumbs  of  the  brawny 
handed  miners;  besides  gold  dust  in  moose- 
hide  sacks  tied  tightly  and  placed  systematic- 
ally side  by  side  in  rows. 

The  surprise  of  the  white  men  was  great. 
They  did  not  imagine  that  Pete  mined  gold 
to  any  extent,  but  thought  he  had  secured 
enough  in  a  desultory  way  for  his  present 
use.  The  trusting  native  had  no  fear  of  the 
men,  having  unreservedly  laid  bare  his  trea- 
sure house. 

"I  no  lie.  I  tell  um  truf,"  said  Pete,  look- 
ing toward  Thomas  MacDougall,  remem- 
bering that  the  doubter  had  frequently  called 
into  question  his  word. 

"We  see  your  gold,  Pete,  but  you  must 
show  us  a  gold  creek,  too,"  was  Tom's  an- 
99 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

swer  to  the  Indian. 

"I  show  you.     Come!" 

******** 

Three  years  passed.  The  great  lakes 
south  of  the  headwaters  of  the  Mackenzie 
River  were  again  frozen.  Darkness  claimed 
the  land  except  when  the  brilliant  low-swing- 
ing moon  lighted  the  heavens  and  snowy 
earth  below,  and  the  sun  for  a  few  brief 
hours  consented  to  coldly  shine  upon  the 
denizens  of  the  wilderness  at  midday. 

A  gang  of  miners  worked  like  beavers  in 
the  bed  of  the  stream.  With  fires  they  thawed 
the  ground,  after  having  diverted  the  creek 
waters  the  previous  summer. 

Their  camp  was  a  large  one.  Fifty  men 
worked  in  two  shifts,  one  half  in  the  day- 
time, the  others  at  night.  At  the  beginning 
of  each  month  they  were  changed,  and  night 
men  were  placed  on  the  day  force ;  this  alter- 
nation being  found  best  in  all  mining  camps. 
Log  cabins  and  bunk  houses  were  numerous, 
large,  and  comfortable,  for  forests  of  excel- 
lent timber  dotted  the  Mackenzie  landscape, 
and  men,  as  ever  ambitious  for  comfort,  had 
felled,  hewed,  and  crosscut  the  trees  to  their 
liking. 

100 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

Much  that  was  crude  of  construction  was 
here  in  confirmation  of  the  fact  that  the  camp 
was  far  removed  from  civilization,  and  men 
had,  with  great  ingenuity,  supplied  defici- 
encies whenever  practicable. 

As  helpers  who  were  ever  faithful  there 
were  "Hudson  Bay  huskies"  to  the  number 
of  four  score  who  had  become  real  beasts  of 
burden,  and  vied  with  each  other  as  to  which 
should  carry  the  palm  for  leadership  and 
favor  in  their  masters'  eyes.  They  were 
mainly  used  for  hauling  wood  and  ice;  the 
latter  in  lieu  of  water  at  this  season. 

For  carrying  gravel  and  dirt  to  the  dumps 
the  miners  had  constructed  rude  tramways 
with  small  flat  cars,  which  being  successfully 
operated  by  gravity  in  all  weather  left  the 
dogs  free  for  other  service. 

No  sluicing  of  dumps  could  now  be  done. 
When  summer  came  again  and  the  creeks  and 
rivers  were  full  of  water,  this  would  be  di- 
rected into  ditches  conveying  it  to  the  well 
arranged  heaps  of  dirt  and  gravel,  and  then 
these  dumps  rapidly  melted  like  snow  before 
hot  sunshine,  leaving  in  their  wake  a  stream 
of  yellow  metal  so  coveted  by  these  fearless 
and  daring  miners. 

101 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

For  no  small  amount  of  gold  had  they 
risked  their  lives  in  this  far  away  corner  of 
the  earth.  Only  four  of  the  miners  had 
come  on  uncertainty,— the  four  guided  by 
Indian  Pete  three  years  before,— the  others 
had  known  why  they  came,  how  far  the  dis- 
tance, how  cold  it  grew,  and  many  other 
points  of  which  it  is  well  to  be  advised  be- 
fore venturing;  but  they  had  come,  and  here 
they  were. 

Not  a  man  regretted  his  coming.  Not 
even  old  Charlie,  after  breaking  his  leg  and 
having  to  wait  for  days  while  two  Indians 
"mushed"  southward  to  the  Fort,  four  hun- 
dred miles  away,  for  Father  Petrof  to  come 
and  set  it  right  again. 

None  heard  him  complain;  though  some 
of  the  "boys"  tried  to  force  him  to  confess 
that  he  wished  himself  back  in  Dawson. 

"Not  by  a  jugful !  I  don't  give  in  like  a 
baby,"  said  he,  stoutly,  although  the  pain  in 
his  limb  must  have  been  considerable. 
"There  aint  no  whiskey  in  me  system,  either, 
to  keep  me  leg  from  healin'  when  it's  once 
put  right  (though  I'll  admit  there  is  some 
tobac),  and  I'll  be  in  trim  again  presently," 
declared  the  gritty  old  miner. 
102 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

Having  nothing  better  to  do  while  in  his 
bunk  he  talked  on,  addressing  the  camp 
cook  who  had  a  few  leisure  moments  from 
the  kitchen. 

"I've  seed  many  a  gold  camp  in  me  day, 
boy,  and  plenty  as  good  as  the  Klondyke  be- 
fore I  ever  struck  that  Canadian  bird;  but  I 
never  got  into  ground  so  rich  as  this.  I  tell 
you,  boy,  it  not  only  makes  me  eyes  bug  out, 
but  it  makes  me  hair  stand  on  end,  fur  it's  a 
whale  of  a  gold  creek!  When  I  lay  here 
studyin'  the  old  tin  cans  and  grub  boxes  full 
of  gold  under  these  bunks,  and  get  to  com- 
putin'  what's  in  'em,  I  feel  like  hollerin'  for 
joy!" 

"But  its  all  Mac's  gold,  you  know,"  said 
the  cook  regretfully. 

"Yes,  but  you  and  me  are  gettin'  the  big- 
gest wages  we  ever  got  in  our  lives,  and  Mac 
never  squirms  at  payin'  either.  Then  we 
have  a  reasonable  hope  that  Sister  Creek  is 
as  good  as  this  one,  and  we  boys  have  got  it 
all  staked,— that's  where  we're  comin'  in  at. 
See?" 

"I  hope  to.     How  much  do  you  calculate 
there  is  under  the  bunks  in  this  room,  Char- 
lie?   I'd  just  like  to  know." 
103 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"There's  about  half  a  million  dollars  in 
this  cabin  and  as  much  in  the  dumps  as  they 
stand  now.  By  cleanin'  up  time  next  sum- 
mer there'll  be  half  a  million  more  at  least; 
judgin'  from  indications.  That  aint  half 
bad,  eh?"  and  Charlie's  eyes  shone  as  he 
talked. 

"By  George!  It's  great,  and  no  mistake; 
but  a  fellow  can't  spend  any  of  it  here," 
said  the  cook  ruefully. 

"All  the  better  for  us.  We've  got  to  save 
it.  We  can't  do  nothin'  else.  Great  box 
we're  in,  to  be  sure,"  and  the  man  laughed 
heartily  in  spite  of  his  infirmity.  Continu- 
ing, he  said: 

"It's  the  best  place  we  could  be  in,  I  tell 
you;  especially  so  for  Bill  who  can't  buy  a 
drop  of  whiskey  for  a  thousand  dollars,  al- 
though he  would  buy  it  sometimes  at  that 
price,  I  think,  if  he  could." 

"It  don't  hinder  him  playing  that  violin 
of  his'n,  does  it?  Do  you  mind  how  he 
played  last  night?" 

"You  bet  your  life.     I  had  nothin'  else  to 

do.     He's  a  crackerjack,  and  that's  no  josh, 

either.      But   here    comes    Mac.      What    in 

thunder's  that?"     The  question  was  put  to 

104 


A  NEW  KLONDYKE 

the  man  entering  with  a  heavy  load  in  his 
hands. 

MacDougall  laughed. 

"Only  a  nugget  that  Tom  turned  up.  I 
brought  it  in  to  show  you,  and  the  Canadian 
placed  the  mammonth  chunk  of  gold  on  the 
floor  near  the  bunk. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"Great  Scott  and  little  fishes!  She's  a 
bird!  Why,  man,  this  new  Klondyke  will 
make  the  old  one  look  like  thirty  cents!" 


105 


CHAPTER  V 

ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

E  STELLA  was  not  the  name  her 
parents  had  given  her.  That 
was  unpronounceable  to  the 
white  man's  tongue  and  was  re- 
placed by  Estella  when  she  mar- 
ried the  trader  not  many  years  ago. 

She  was  a  bright  and  amiable  young  wo- 
man, though  not  actually  pretty.  Born  and 
raised  on  the  Seward  Peninsula,  she  had 
learned  to  hunt,  fish  and  trap,  as  do  all  the 
Eskimo  women  while  still  in  their  teens. 
Numbers  of  young  men  among  her  people 
had  sought  her  hand  in  marriage,  but  up  to 
the  time  of  the  advent  of  the  white  men  into 
the  country  she  had  never  yielded  to  their 
entreaties. 

When  approached  on  the  subject  she 
glanced  demurely  down  at  the  toe  of  her 
mukluks,  tossed  back  her  long  hair,  and, 
turning  her  back  on  the  suitor  who  did  not 
suit,  ran  away  to  play  on  the  beach  with  the 
children. 

106 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

Her  people  did  not  know  her  heart.  She 
had  ambition,  though  it  was  unknown  to 
them.  None  of  the  young  Eskimos  entirely 
pleased  her.  Some  one  with  better  looks  and 
more  supplies  than  they  must  offer  himself 
before  she  decided  to  take  a  life-mate,  she 
told  herself. 

At  her  birth  some  planet  must  have  be- 
stowed upon  her  many  aspirations  above 
those  of  the  common  Eskimo,  and  though 
she  was  ignorant  of  the  cause  of  her  ambi- 
tion she  realized  the  possession  of  it. 

Being  a  sensible  young  woman  she  hid 
these  things  in  her  own  bosom,  for  why 
should  she  trouble  her  parents?  They  would 
not  understand  her,  but  would  oppose,  say 
harsh  things,  perhaps,  and,  at  any  rate,  feel 
badly. 

So  she  ran  away  to  play  with  the  little 
ones.  If  this  did  not  answer  her  purpose 
she  persuaded  her  young  brother  to  take 
her  in  his  didarka  on  the  water  to  some  quiet 
island,  where  in  the  pleasant  sunshine  they 
sat  upon  the  sandy  beach  or  fished  in  some 
gurgling  stream. 

In  winter  there  was  less  freedom.  She 
must  keep  more  to  her  father's  igloo  and 
107 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

help  her  mother  at  sewing  of  furs  for  the 
clothing,  going  out  at  times  with  the  other 
women  to  set  their  traps  in  the  snow  for  ani- 
mals whose  skins  were  in  demand  by  the 
traders. 

At  last,  one  day  in  winter,  there  came  to 
the  home  of  the  Eskimo  girl,  two  white  men. 
They  were  clothed  in  furs  and  rode  behind 
dog-teams.  They  came  to  buy  skins,  prin- 
cipally those  of  the  black  fox,  mink  and 
white  ermine. 

One  of  the  men  could  speak  a  good  deal 
of  the  Eskimo  language,  and  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  making  known  their  errand.  They 
wished  to  remain  all  night  in  the  igloo  as  it 
was  too  late  and  stormy  to  proceed  farther 
on  the  trail. 

The  Alaskan  Eskimo-  is  kindly  and  gen- 
erous. No  one  is  ever  turned  from  his  door. 
It  matters  not  how  low  the  state  of  his  lar- 
der, or  how  few  sticks  there  are  before  the 
fire;  the  stranger  is  always  welcome. 

The  two  white  traders  remained.  They 
bought  of  the  Eskimo  what  furs  they  wanted 
and  paid  as  little  for  them  as  possible.  A 
little  thread,  calico,  tea,  tobacco,  and  a  few 
glass  beads  were  given  in  exchange  for  the 
108 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

soft  and  shining  skins  which  in  civilized  cen- 
ters would  sell  for  a  fabulous  sum. 

The  storm  continued.  The  traders  re- 
mained for  days.  When  they  left  the  igloo 
the  heart  of  the  Eskimo  maiden  was  no  long- 
er her  own;  she  had  given  it  to  another  who 
would  presently  return  and  take  her  to  his 
cabin. 

The  girl's  ambition  was  now  about  to  be 
realized.  To  be  looked  upon  by  her  people 
as  the  bride  of  a  white  man,  and  that  one  a 
rich  trader  who  owned,  not  only  a  cabin  and 
many  skins,  but  dogs,  sleds  and  boats,  was 
truly  a  great  honor  and  not  to  be  lightly  con- 
sidered. She  would  soon  be  in  a  position 
high  above  that  of  any  of  the  Eskimo  women 
of  her  acquaintance,  and  she  began  to  feel 
the  importance  and  desirability  of  her  sta- 
tion. 

The  trader  who  had  succeeded  in  winning 
where  others  had  failed  was  much  older  than 
his  sweetheart.  He  was  of  middle  height, 
with  black  hair,  and  swarthy,  not  unlike  in 
this  respect  to  her  own  family;  but  totally 
different  in  disposition,  a  striking  contrast  to 
the  gentle  and  yielding  character  of  the  Es- 
kimo, but  the  girl  in  crass  ignorance  was 
109 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

quite  unaware  of  the  difference.  To  her  he 
was  an  ardent  lover,  brave,  fearless,  strong, 
and  with  worldly  goods  to  provide  her  with 
all  she  liked  and  needed. 

Poor,  simple-hearted,  little  Eskimo  girl ! 
Are  your  good  and  kind  devas  sleeping  that 
they  do  not  better  guard  you  ?  Of  what  can 
they  be  thinking?  Call  them  quickly  to  ad- 
vise and  help  you  before  it  is  too  late,  and 
your  happiness  is  forever  blasted !  Will  they 
not  wake  in  time  to  keep  you  from  making 
this  terrible  mis-step?  Beware  of  the  white 
man  whose  heart  is  blackness ! 

But  her  good  devas  slept  on.  The  return 
of  the  trader  was  expected,  and  as  far  as  lay 
in  their  power  the  Eskimo  had  made  ready 
for  the  great  and  unusual  event  soon  to  be 
celebrated.  The  igloo  was  made  tidy,  heaps 
of  firewood  were  piled  beside  the  door,  and 
from  the  cache  not  far  distant  were  brought 
quantities  of  frozen  tomcod,  seal  meat,  and 
salmon  berries.  Whale  oil  for  illuminating 
the  interior  of  the  snow-covered  igloo  was 
bought  in  puffed  out  seal  bladders,  tied  at 
each  end  by  stoutly  knotted  sinews. 

A  new  fur  parkie  for  the  bride  made  of 
reindeer  skin  and  decorated  with  black  and 
no 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

white  fur  squares  for  a  border,  was  com- 
pleted by  Eskimo  women  sitting  crosslegged 
in  a  corner  of  the  igloo. 

At  last  the  white  man  arrived.  He  was 
accompanied  by  another  who  was  to  act  as 
the  officiating  clergyman;  the  Eskimo  girl 
wished  to  have  performed  the  ceremony  of 
his  people;  but  alas!  she  had  not  overheard 
a  conversation  which  had  taken  place  be- 
tween the  two  men. 

"Get  off  some  rigmarole  of  your  own,  I 
tell  you,"  laughed  the  coming  bridegroom, 
speaking  to  his  companion,  "It's  no  matter 
what  it  is,  only  don't  make  me  burst  out 
laughing  in  the  middle  of  it,  for  Estella 
might  resent  it.  She's  a  bright  little  one,  and 
that's  no  josh.  Seriously,  I  don't  want  a 
bona  fide  marriage  ceremony  performed, 
you  understand.  When  I  make  my  stake  and 
leave  Alaska  behind  forever  I  don't  care  to 
have  a  legal  wife  tagging  at  my  coat-tails.  I 
want  to  be  a  free  man  to  go  and  come  as  I 
please.  See?"  and  the  speaker  puffed  a 
cloud  of  tobacco  smoke  from  between  his 
lips. 

"What  about  the  children,  Buster?  Will 
there  be  any?" 

in 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"You  bet  your  life!  The  brats  can  live 
as  well  as  those  up  the  country  with  that 
other  squaw  of  mine.  But  you're  a  terror 
for  questions,  pard.  If  you  squeal  on  me 
I'll  send  you  to  thunder,"  clapping  his  hand 
on  his  hip  pocket  where  protruded  a  stout, 
black  handle. 

"No  fear  of  me,"  laughed  the  other.  "I'm 
too  eager  for  the  rest  of  them  fine  furs  which 
we  must  try  to  get.  Can't  you  work  the  girl 
for  them,  Buster?" 

"I'll  try.  In  the  meantime  get  the  dogs 
together  to-morrow  and  feed  'em  up. 
They're  lookin'  thin.  I  hope  to  hear  from 
Dan  in  a  day  or  two  as  regards  that  creek 
and  what  he's  found  in  it.  Then  I'm  off  to 
the  nest  of  my  turtle  dove,  for  the  bride- 
groom is  hungry  for  his  bride,  eh,  pard?" 
winked  the  dark-browed  fellow,  still  smok- 
ing heavily. 

"You're  a  dandy,  sure!"  retorted  the  man 
designated  as  "pard"  by  the  trader.  "I  see 
your  finish  if  your  squaw's  people  up  country 
find  out  your  doin's  here." 

"They  never  will.  The  Yukon  is  many 
'sleeps'  away,  and  there  is  no  communica- 
tion between  these  Eskimos  and  the  In- 

112 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

dians." 

"You're  makin'  good  the  sayin'  that  a 
sailor  has  a  wife  in  every  port  aint  you  Bus- 
ter?" continued  the  man  who  in  the  absence 
of  better  employment  delighted  in  teasing 
his  partner. 

"Wife  be  blowed!  What's  got  into  you 
to-night?  Go  along  to  bed!" 

"Thank  you  I'm  there,"  mockingly  from 
the  other,  while  tumbling  into  his  bunk  in  the 
cabin  corner,  and  pulling  away  at  his  smudgy 
cob  pipe  after  retiring. 

The  two  men  understood  each  other. 
"Buster",  as  he  was  nicknamed,  was  shame- 
less. He  respected  neither  God  nor  man. 
Whatever  he  willed  to  do,  he  did,  regardless 
of  results,  and  was  well  known  in  Alaska  by 
the  white  inhabitants.  The  other  was  a 
trifle  weaker  though  not  less  wicked.  He 
could  stand  beside  Buster  and  urge  him  on, 
while  hesitating  to  do  the  same  acts  of  law- 
lessness. There  is  small  difference  in  these 
degrees  of  sinning.  If  any,  it  may  be  in 
favor  of  the  Busters,  who  possibly  deserve 
credit  for  fearlessness  where  the  others  are 
cowardly. 

The  scant  mock  marriage  was  soon  over. 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

The  smiling  little  bride  said  good-bye  to  her 
people,  who  wept  around  her;  climbed  into 
the  dog-sled  of  her  new  master,  and  rode 
proudly  away  southward. 

With  the  summer  her  friends  might  come 
on  a  fishing  trip  to  visit  her,  and  renew  their 
acquaintance  in  her  new  home. 

She  wanted  to  convince  them  of  the  wis- 
dom of  her  selection.  She  felt  that  she  could 
do  so — if  not  now,  then  by  the  time  of  their 
coming. 

Poor  child  I  She  had  not  yet  learned  that 
it  is  best  to  feel  confident  of  nothing. 

Two  years  passed,  and  a  small,  black-eyed 
toddler  kept  Estella  company.  He  wore  a 
red  calico  cap  upon  his  head  and  his  stout 
and  chubby  limbs  grew  perceptibly.  While 
young  he  was  tied  upon  his  mother's  back 
beneath  her  parkie,  a  stout  leather  belt  con- 
fining the  same  around  the  woman's  waist  to 
prevent  the  baby  from  falling  out.  There  his 
black  eyes  winked  and  blinked  above  the  lit- 
tle, round  mouth  which  had  only  lately 
learned  to  smile,  and  which  was  beginning 
to  experiment  daily  among  the  difficult 
mazes  of  his  native  dialects.  For  the  child 
was  confronted  with  two  languages;  Eng- 
114 


"Upon  his  mother's  back 
beneath  her  parkie" 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

lish,  spoken  by  his  father,  the  Eskimo 
spoken  by  his  mother;  but  he  was  as  yet  ig- 
norant of  both.  Dearly  his  mother  loved 
him,  and  enjoyed  his  companionship  during 
the  long  and  frequent  absences  of  his  father. 

Gold  in  great  quantities  had  now  been  dis- 
covered on  the  Seward  Peninsula.  Hun- 
dreds of  people  were  flocking  into  the  coun- 
try. Camps  were  filling  with  eager  fortune- 
seekers,  and  the  beach  was  strewn  with  tents. 

Fur  traders  had  gone  into  mining.  Miners 
were  scattered  over  the  country,  carrying 
supplies  by  boat  up  stream  to  the  sections 
where  they  looked  for  gold,  and  where,  in 
many  instances,  they  found  it. 

The  attention  of  all  had  been  drawn  to 
a  stream  called  Anvil,  near  the  sea,  whose 
sentinel  rock,  perched  upon  a  tall  hillcrest 
near,  had  long  and  successfully  guarded  its 
wealth  of  gold  and  treasure. 

It  could  be  hidden  and  guarded  no  longer. 
Men  now  labored  strenuously  with  pick  and 
shovel  in  the  bed  of  the  golden  stream;  nor 
stopped  for  sleeping;  while  accumulating 
riches  filled  their  vaults  to  overflowing. 

In  a  small  hut  upon  the  beach  lived  the 
Eskimo  woman  and  her  boy.  Her  husband 
117 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

had  sailed  with  others  for  the  north  country, 
and  the  two  were  unprovided  for  and  alone. 
With  industrious  fingers  Estella  made  small 
trifles  to  sell  to  the  white  people  in  camp, 
many  of  whom  carried  heavy  purses  and 
coveted  the  souvenirs  made  by  the  natives. 

It  was  her  only  way  of  earning  a  poor 
subsistence  for  herself  and  boy.  Her  father 
and  brothers  supplied  her  with  fish  in  summer 
and  her  wants  were  not  numerous.  Like 
worn  out  footgear  which  had  served  its  pur- 
pose, being  perhaps  well  fitting  and  useful 
for  a  time,  but  after  fresh  purchases  to  be 
cast  aside  as  worthless,  was  the  native  wo- 
man now  discarded. 

It  was  summer  time  in  Alaska.  Tundra 
mosses  were  at  their  freshest,  and  wild  flow- 
ers bloomed  and  nodded  on  every  side.  It 
was  the  time  for  fishing,  and  Estella's  rela- 
tives came  to  take  her  with  them  on  their  an- 
nual excursion,  when  for  a  time  she  was 
happy  trying  to  forget  the  white  man's  neg- 
lect. It  was  better  than  his  abuse  and  curses 
which  she  had  meekly  borne;  but  which  still 
sorely  rankled  in  her  bosom.  Her  parents 
did  not  upbraid  her.  They  appeared  to  have 
forgotten  the  girl's  pride  on  her  wedding 
118 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

day,  and  had  only  kind  words  for  their  sad- 
hearted  daughter  in  her  trouble.  But  sym- 
pathy alone  could  not  put  food  in  her  mouth 
nor  that  of  her  boy,  and  winter  was  ap- 
proaching. 

Her  parents  had  many  children,  and  oth- 
ers depended  upon  them,  and  little  with 
which  to  feed  them.  The  fishing  season  had 
been  a  poor  one.  Nets  and  seines  had  been 
placed  in  streams  as  usual  by  the  Eskimo,  but 
many  of  these  had  been  destroyed  by  white 
men,  and  where  this  was  not  the  case  the  wa- 
ters of  creeks  and  rivers  had  been  so  mud- 
died by  mining  operations  as  to  ruin  all 

chances  of  securing  fish. 
******** 

It  was  a  cold  and  wintry  night.  The  snow 
was  sifting  over  the  tundra  in  icy  gusts  from 
the  westward.  Morning  would  see  all  snow- 
hidden,  including  the  huts  of  the  four  re- 
maining natives  on  the  sandspit  between 
the  river  and  the  sea. 

Estella's  camp  fire  was  dead.  There  was 
neither  sticks  nor  coals  to  feed  it.  A  long- 
drawn  wail  from  her  boy  lying  huddled  in 
skins  upon  the  ground,  reminded  her  of 
other  deficiencies — there  was  nothing  to  eat 
119 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

in  the  igloo— absolutely  nothing.  Both  were 
cold  and  hungry. 

Wrapping  herself  and  her  little  boy  as 
warmly  as  possible,  she  took  the  child's  hand 
and  started  down  the  street  of  the  mining 
camp  in  the  blizzard.  There  were  places 
open  to  her.  There  were  the  saloons.  They 
were  at  least  filled  with  warmth  and  bright- 
ness, and  she  would  there  be  safe  from  freez- 
ing till  morning.  There  were  undoubtedly 
other  dangers,  but  these  she  could  not  now 
contemplate.  She  could  not  let  her  baby 
freeze  while  starving. 

Making  her  way  along  with  her  boy  be- 
tween the  winter  blasts,  the  little  one  cling- 
ing tightly  to  her  hand,  she  approached  the 
door. 

Lights  were  shining  brightly  through  the 
windows,  and  she  heard  voices.  Would  she 
meet  her  husband  if  she  entered?  She  hoped 
not,  for  she  must  go  in.  It  was  death  to  re- 
main outside.  Timidly  she  placed  her  hand 
upon  the  door  and  partly  opened  it,  glanc- 
ing quickly  about  the  room  to  note  its  occu- 
pants. 

The  flaring  of  the  lamps  indicated  her 
presence. 

120 


clinging  tightly 
to  her  hand  she  approached  the  door" 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

"Shut  the  door,  you  beggar!"  shouted  the 
bartender.  "Don't  you  know  the  wind  is 
blowin'  and  lights  will  go  out?  Besides  its 
deuced  cold  night,  and  coal  costs  money,  you 
know,  Stella,"  added  the  fellow  less  savagely, 
as,  glancing  quietly  at  him,  and  leading  her 
boy,  she  slowly  moved  toward  the  big  coal 
stove. 

"Let  'em  warm  themselves,  can't  you?" 
exclaimed  one  of  the  men  sitting  at  a  table 
and  shuffling  cards  for  a  game. 

"Whose  hinderin'  'em?  I  aint!  All  I'm 
objectin'  to  is  the  length  of  time  she  held  the 
door  open  when  she  came  in." 

"Wai,  she's  in  now,  and  the  door's  shut, 
aint  it?"  drawled  the  card  player. 

"Yes." 

"Then  close  your  gab!"  and  lowering  his 
tone  to  his  partner  opposite  he  said  shortly, 
"Play,  wont  you?" 

In  the  meantime  Estella  was  warming 
herself  beside  the  fire.  On  her  knees  she 
held  the  boy  whose  head  soon  drooped 
drowsily  in  spite  of  his  hunger. 

It  was  a  long,  bare  room,  newly  boarded 
as  to  ceiling,  flooring  and  walls.  A  smooth 
and  shining  counter  stretched  along  the  west 
123 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

side  of  the  room,  behind  which  stood  rows 
of  well  filled  bottles,  ready  to  be  uncorked. 
For  ornament,  upon  the  opposite  wall  there 
hung  a  great  mirror,  trying  its  best  to  dupli- 
cate the  owner's  stock  in  trade,  as  though  he 
would  be  needing  such  help  before  the  win- 
ter was  over,  when  his  whiskies  were  gone. 
For  further  brightening  the  room  there 
hung  suspended  from  gilt  buttons  close  be- 
low the  ceiling,  certain  representations  of 
personages  in  garments  too  filmy  to  assure 
the  observer  that  they  were  intended  for  this 
Arctic  world,  because  rivalling  the  costumes 
of  two  solitary  gardeners  in  the  long  ago. 

However  that  may  be,  the  pictures  did  not 
disturb  Estella— as  to  the  miners  they  were 
accustomed  to  these  and  many  other  sights. 
Something  far  worse  to  her  troubled  the  Es- 
kimo. It  was  hunger. 

Suddenly  one  of  the  loungers,  consider- 
ably younger  that  the  others,  said  to  his 
neighbors : 

"I'll  bet  she's  hungry." 

"Very  likely,  Sam,  they  mostly  always 
are.  There's  nothin'  here  to  eat  if  she  is, 
by  George." 

"There's  plenty  of  booze!" 
124 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

"Yes,  at  two  bits  a  drink." 

"Then  straightening  himself  in  his  seat 
the  first  speaker  called  out: 

"Stella!" 

"What?"  answered  the  woman  in  a  low 
voice. 

"Are  you  hungry?" 

Quick  as  thought  she  raised  her  head  and 
looked  appealingly  into  his  face. 

"Yes."  Her  lips  trembled,  and  tears 
sprang  into  the  dark  eyes. 

"Have  you  had  anything  to  eat  to-day?" 

"No— little  fish  yesterday,"  she  said  quiet- 
ly, holding  up  one  finger  to  indicate  the  num- 
ber. 

"Good  God!  She's  starving!  Here,  you 
toddy  slinger,  there!  I  say,  can't  you  give 
this  woman  something  to  eat?"  to  the  man 
behind  the  bar. 

"Wai,  I'm  sorry  to  say  it,  but  there  aint 
no  grub  here;  leastwise  that's  good  for  Eski- 
mo," he  added  with  a  wink. 

"I  guess  most  anything  would  be  good  for 
her,  and  you  hand  out  something  real  sud- 
den, too,"  said  the  young  man,  tossing  a 
bright  silver  dollar  toward  the  counter. 

"Oh,  wal',  if  that's  the  game,  I'm  here. 
125 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

Oyster  cocktail  and  crackers,  eh,  Stella?" 

The  woman's  eyes  brightened  at  the  last 
words,  which  she  understood;  the  first  she 
was  a  stranger  to,  but  if  it  was  something  to 
fill  the  awful  void  beneath  she  could  eat  it. 
She  nodded  eagerly. 

Beggars  could  not  be  choosers.  That  was 
never  plainer  than  now.  Cocktail  and  crack- 
ers soon  disappeared,  a  good  share  of  the 
latter  going  underneath  the  woman's  parkie 
to  keep  for  her  boy  when  he  awaked.  The 
cocktail  he  must  not  have. 

An  hour  later  a  few  of  the  miners  played 
on.  Some,  whose  well  filled  "pokes"  per- 
mitted had  gone  to  warm  and  comfortable 
beds,  others  to  cold  and  cheerless  bunks,  as 
the  case  happened;  but  the  Eskimo  woman, 
with  her  sleeping  boy  on  her  lap,  slept  heav- 
ily. Sitting  on  the  floor  in  a  corner,  with  her 
head  against  a  bench,  she  had  for  a  time  for- 
gotten her  sorrows. 

Presently  the  door  was  partly  opened,  and 
an  Eskimo  slipped  softly  inside.  The  men 
were  still  intent  on  their  "black  jack",  and 
he  was  unnoticed.  His  anxious  face  per- 
ceptibly brightened  when  he  saw  Estella,  and 
he  gave  a  deep  sigh  of  relief  as  he  seated 
126 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

himself  near  the  fire. 

There  was  a  lull  between  games  at  the 
green  table. 

"Say,  boys,  what's  become  of  Buster?" 
asked  one  of  the  miners. 

"Gone  to  the  devil,  I  guess.  That's  where 
he  was  goin'  the  last  time  I  saw  him,"  re- 
marked one  in  no  uncertain  tone  of  voice. 

"Oh,  no,  he's  married  a  white  woman," 
exclaimed  the  youngest  of  the  party. 

"Ha,  ha!  That's  a  good  'un.  My  lad, 
I'm  older'n  you,  and  I  tell  you  it  may  be 
as  you  say  and  still  not  alter  the  case  of  his 
goin'  to  the  old  boy.  Some  women  I  know 
of  help  a  man  faster  that  way  than  t'other," 
said  the  old  miner. 

"Buster's  a  chump!  Just  look  at  all  the 
money  he's  made  off  the  natives  and  see  the 
way  he  treats  'em!"  jerking  his  thumb  over 
his  shoulder  toward  the  two  asleep  in  the 
corner. 

"And  that  kid  of  his'n.  He  ought  to  take 
care  of  him  instead  of  lettin'  him  starve  to 
death  like  this.  I  swear  its  a  shame!" 

"Yes,  he  ought  to,"  from  another  of  the 
group,  "but  he  wont." 

"When  I  was  a  kid  I  was  told  that  a  bird 
127 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

wha.t  can  sing  and  wont  sing  should  be  made 
to  sing,  and  that  fits  Buster  now." 

"Oh,  well,  Alaska's  a  big  place,  and 
there's  plenty  of  natives.  It  don't  matter 
if  a  few  does  die  off.  There'll  be  enough 
left,  I  reckon,"  carelessly  remarked  a  man 
who  had  not  spoken. 

"You  go  'way  back  and  set  down,  Tender- 
foot; you've  allers  got  a  pimple  on  yer  nose! 
Don't  you  s'pose  that  Eskimos  feel  or  sense 
things?  I  do.  I  think  that  such  people  as 
this,  'Stella  now,  orter  be  looked  after, — 
'specially  with  that  boy  of  her'n,  for  he's  a 
likely  kid,  and  might  make  somethin'.  Won- 
der why  the  big  guns  at  Washington  don't 
try  a  hand  at  helpin'?  Seems  to  me  they 
could  if  they'd  a  mind."  The  man  ended  his 
speech  in  a  lower  tone  of  soliloquy. 

"Easy  to  tell  others  what  ter  do,  aint  it, 
boss?"  queried  one. 

"I  s'pose  that's  so;  but  I  was  thinkin'  of 
my  own  woman  and  kids  at  home,  and  how 
I'd  feel  to  see  'em  starving!"  Then  as 
though  regretting  the  turn  the  conversation 
had  taken,  he  reached  for  his  furs,  and  while 
pulling  his  parkie  over  his  head  preparatory 
to  leaving,  said  more  briskly:  "I'm  goin' 
128 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

to  bed,  boys;  you  better  do  the  same;  it's 
near  mornin',"  and  with  that  he  left  the  sa- 
loon. 

Presently  the  little  boy  stirred  and  whim- 
pered. Instantly  the  mother  roused  herself, 
though  with  some  effort,  and  the  crackers 
were  brought  to  light.  The  child  was  raven- 
ous, and  ate  greedily.  When  he  had  finish- 
ed the  Eskimo  by  the  fire  came  toward  them, 
saying  a  few  words  softly  in  his  own 
tongue.  With  that  the  boy  put  out  his  arms 
and  the  man  took  him,  going  back  to  his 
place  by  the  fire. 

The  woman  had  changed  her  position, 
and  was  soon  again  asleep. 

When  daylight  came,  the  bartender  be- 
gan moving  about.  He  thought  the  natives 
had  better  get  into  the  fresh  air,  as  he  want- 
ed to  clean  the  place,  he  said. 

With  that  the  two  Eskimos  plodded  out 
through  the  snowdrifts;  the  man  carrying 
the  child  in  his  arms. 

The  blizzard  had  died  away,  and  the  air 
was  still  and  cold.  When  they  reached  the 
woman's  door  they  entered,  the  man  first 
pushing  away  the  snow  with  his  feet,  the 
child  still  cuddling  in  his  arms. 
129 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

Beside  the  camp  stove  lay  piled  a  heap 
of  small  driftwood  sticks  and  a  sack  of  coal. 
Upon  the  table  a  few  eatables  had  been  de- 
posited, evidently  some  hours  before.  A  fire 
was  soon  crackling,  and  a  meal  was  cooking. 
To  the  woman's  questions  the  man  had  not 
replied.  He  might  have  been  a  deaf  man, 
for  all  the  notice  he  had  taken.  She  still 
questioned,  speaking  their  native  dialect. 
When  all  was  done  he  came  close,  took  her 
hand  in  his  own,  and,  speaking  in  Eskimo, 
said  feelingly: 

"My  little  sweetheart,  wont  you  let  me 
love  you  now?  Many  long  and  weary  moons 
have  I  waited  until  my  heart  is  very  sore. 
Tell  me  if  you  cannot  love  me?  I  will  be 
very  good  and  you  shall  never  starve.  I  will 
work.  I  will  bring  much  driftwood.  I  have 
salmon  and  tomcod,  and  a  dog-team  of  the 
best.  In  summer  we  will  sail  for  Tubuktulik 
and  make  a  pleasant  hunting  camp.  There 
we  will  shoot  squirrels  and  the  big  bear,  and 
you  shall  again  be  happy  with  freedom." 

At  this  effort  of  long  speaking  the  Eskimo 
seemed  abashed,  for  he  was  a  man  of  few 
words  usually;  but  he  still  clung  to  the  little 
hand  of  the  woman  by  his  side. 
130 


ESTELLA  THE  ESKIMO 

"And  my  boy?"  she  whispered  eagerly, 
with  tears  shining  in  her  eyes,  which  were 
now  looking  unreservedly  into  his  own. 

"He  shall  be  mine,  and  I  will  ever  love 
him,"  was  the  reply,  as  she  glanced  proudly 
toward  the  baby  amusing  himself  with  the 
sticks. 

"You  are  gentle  to  Stella,  and  she  will  do 
all  things  as  you  say,"  murmured  the  woman 
softly,  with  drooping  head,  and  trembling. 

"And  will  you  love  me  always,  little  one  ?" 
putting  his  arms  about  her  and  pressing  her 
close  to  his  heart. 

"Yes,  always  and  forever.  Then  I  will 
not  be  alone,"  she  smiled  brightly  through 
her  tears  at  the  prospect,  while  nestling 
closer  in  his  strong  arms. 

"Never  alone  again,  dear  one.  I  promise, 
if  your  heart  will  only  love  me,"  said  he, 
kissing  her;  and  the  child  at  play  among  the 
driftwood  sticks  gravely  gave  a  handful  to 
his  mother. 

"He  shall  call  you  his  papa,"  said  she  al- 
most gaily,  "for  will  it  not  be  true?" 


CHAPTER  VI 

WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

IT  was  in  the  Fall  of  the  year  19— that 
a  party  of  miners  outfitted  in  Nome 
and  started  for  the  Arctic.     One  of 
them  had  been  in   that  vicinity  be- 
fore,  was   familiar   with   the   trails, 
and  had  some  acquaintance  with  the  natives 
of  that  section. 

Like  all  real  "sourdough"  miners  they 
knew  how  to  speak  a  good  many  words  in 
Eskimo,  especially  young  Gibbs,  who  had 
wintered  there. 

Not  only  did  it  please  the  natives  to  have 
the  white  men  use  the  Eskimo  language  be- 
cause it  showed  friendliness,  but  it  made  bar- 
gaining easier  for  all. 

It  was  not,  however,  for  the  purpose  of 
trading  that  this  party  of  five  men  were  mak- 
ing a  long,  cold  and  tedious  trip  to  the  Sela- 
wik  River. 

They  were  looking  for  gold.     It  was  late 
in   November  when   the   creeks   and   rivers 
were   frozen,   and  the  swamps   and  tundra 
132 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

could  be  everywhere  crossed;  and  as  the 
weather  was  not  so  severe  as  it  would  be 
later,  and  the  snow  was  not  so  deep  it  was 
considered  the  best  time  of  the  year  for 
starting  the  expedition. 

There  were  three  dog-teams  and  as  many 
heavy  sleds,  packed  tightly  with  all  manner 
of  necessary  equipments— fur  sleeping  bags, 
tents,  clothing  of  skins,  and  food  supplies  in 
the  smallest  possible  compass,  besides  frozen 
tomcod  for  the  malamutes. 

To  be  sure,  reindeer  would  have  been 
more  expeditious,  and  would  have  hunted 
their  own  provender,  thus  lightening  the 
loads  on  the  sleds,  as  well  as  making  a  de- 
licious food  for  the  men  in  case  of  a  short- 
age of  provisions;  but  there  were  none  of 
these  animals  at  Nome  and  the  dogs  were 
substituted. 

It  was  a  long  journey.  The  prospect  was 
one  of  great  hardship  and  even  suffering  to 
those  not  accustomed  to  a  miner's  life;  but 
to  these  hardy  men  of  Alaska,  inured  as  they 
had  been  to  the  cold  of  this  northland,  it 
was  a  real  pleasure  trip  which  was  looked 
forward  to  with  keenest  interest. 

The  direction  they  wished  to  take  was  due 
133 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

northeast  from  Nome  to  the  Selawik  River; 
and  at  that  place  their  plans  would  be  fur- 
ther perfected.  Their  object  was  to  find 
virgin  gold — placer  gold — to  discover  it  in 
such  quantities  that  all  might  become  rich; 
and  incidentally,  after  their  own  wants  had 
been  supplied,  those  of  the  gentlemen  whose 
money  had  outfitted  them  would  be  consid- 
ered—perhaps. 

They  were  already  on  the  trail,  at  any 
rate,  with  all  they  needed  upon  their  sleds 
and  in  their  pockets;  the  gentlemen  in  ques- 
tion were  far  away — too  far  to  interfere 
with  their  movements;  in  fact,  had  gone  to 
London  for  the  season  and  could  not  return 
for  many  months. 

This  was  their  opportunity.  They  pro- 
posed to  use  it  for  their  own  advantage  un- 
less prevented  by  some  unforeseen  calamity 
which  should  end  their  lives;  at  least,  this 
was  the  way  two  of  the  miners  expressed 
themselves  in  the  little  roadhouse  at  Kee- 
walik  after  many  days  of  hard  travel  from 
Nome. 

Drinks  and  tobacco  were  passed  over  the 
counter.  Goodbye  greetings  were  being  ex- 
changed. 

134 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

"Hope  you'll  strike  it  rich  and  let  us  in  on 
the  ground  floor,  Dunbar,"  called  out  one  of 
the  loafers  to  the  oldest  man  of  the  party 
about  to  leave. 

"Thanks,  awfully;  I'll  remember,"  re- 
plied the  man  addressed,  laughing,  but  with- 
out promising.  "So  long!" 

"So  long,"  called  out  the  bartender  in  re- 
ply. Then  to  those  in  the  room:  "Them 
fellers  are  hittin'  the  trail  in  good  shape  with 
all  they  need  for  six  weeks,  but  when  that's 
gone  they'll  have  ter  come  to  us  to  fill  up 
again.  There  aint  no  other  place  this  side 
of  Nome  to  buy  a  hunk  of  terbac  that  I 
knows  of,  eh,  Curley?" 

"Nope,  nor  drinks,  nor  grub  neither,  by 
Jove!"  removing  the  smutty  cob  pipe  from 
between  his  teeth  in  order  to  smile  widely  as 
was  habitual  with  Curley. 

"I  wish  'em  much  joy  with  that  Selawik 
gang,"  said  the  man  behind  the  bar. 

"Well,  there's  a  few  whites  there,  and 
then  there's  ole  Kuikutuk  and  his  brood,  be- 
sides a  dozen  other  natives.  Does  the  ole 
shaman's  squaw  still  live  in  his  igloo?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  guess  so.     She  did  the  last  I 
heerd,"  answered  the  other. 
135 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"Ole  Kuik  better  look  sharp  when  Gibbs 
gits  there,  for  I  have  heerd  that  the  young 
fool  was  awful  sweet  on  his  pretty  woman 
last  year,"  and  wide  smiling  Curly  pulled  his 
parkie  hood  over  his  head  preparatory  to 
leaving  the  roadhouse,  after  delivering  him- 
self of  this  piece  of  gossip. 

"Them  chaps  is  swelled  up  now  all  right 
enough,  but  just  wait  a  bit.  They  may  come 
back  with  their  feathers  picked,  for  the  job 
they've  struck  aint  a  summer  picnic,  and 
that's  no  josh,  either." 

In  this  manner  were  the  departed  miners 
and  their  actions  commented  upon;  not  in 
the  most  complimentary  way,  to  be  sure,  as 
is  the  custom  with  many  when  those  around 
them  seem  prosperous. 

In  the  meantime  the  prospectors  pushed 
on.  Lakes,  rivers  and  mountains  were  cross- 
ed. In  the  latter  the  lowest  passes  and  the 
most  used  trails  were  selected,  but  these  were 
always  rough  and  bewildering  at  best— a 
few  blazoned  spruces  on  the  hills  or  hatchet- 
hacked  willows  near  the  creeks,  a  tin  can 
placed  upon  a  stake  or  a  bit  of  rag  flying 
from  a  twig;  all  these  but  poorly  marked 
the  paths  which  were  seldom  pressed  by  the 
136 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

foot  of  a  human  being.  Weeks  might  elapse, 
or  months  even,  when  no  soul  passed  that 
way.  Perhaps  the  whir  of  a  partridge's 
wing  as  he  flew  from  one  feeding  ground  to 
another  on  the  tundra  was  the  only  sound 
disturbing  the  still  air  for  hours;  or  when  a 
red  fox,  made  sprightly  by  hunger,  left  as 
few  foot-prints  on  the  snow  as  possible,  by 
leaping  with  great  bounds  forward  to  the 
hills. 

Buckland  River  and  its  tributaries  were 
left  behind.  No  gold  of  any  account  had 
as  yet  been  found  in  their  vicinity,  and  the 
miners  hurried  on.  Time  was  precious,  for 
food  was  disappearing  and  severe  weather 
was  approaching. 

Finally,  at  the  close  of  a  short  winter's 
day  in  December,  the  three  dog-teams  drew 
their  sleds  into  the  camp  at  Selawik.  Fling- 
ing themselves  upon  the  snow  in  their  har- 
ness the  patient  brutes  looked  appealingly 
into  their  masters'  faces.  Then,  as  if  by  in- 
stinct they  understood  that  here  they  would 
stop  for  some  days,  tense  and  tired  muscles 
relaxed,  each  pointed  furry  head  was  laid 
between  two  weary  little  feet,  and  the  mala- 
mutes  rested.  They  had  well  earned  the  rest. 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

Here  in  the  midst  of  a  forest  of  small 
firs  the  boughs  of  which  were  still  covered 
with  snow  as  if  it  had  just  fallen,  rose  the 
chimneys  of  perhaps  a  half  dozen  log  cabins 
and  igloos,  the  latter  appearing  to  be  sim- 
ply burrows  from  which  smoke  was  slowly 
issuing;  but  being  in  reality  the  winter  homes 
of  the  Selawik  Indians  or  Eskimo. 

The  latter  usually  lived  in  filth  and 
squalor,  it  being  their  habit  to  perform  only 
the  most  necessary  labor,  and  that,  too,  with^ 
the  least  amount  of  effort.  The  women 
were  the  workers,  performing  the  major 
part  of  every  duty. 

In  the  igloo  of  the  shaman,  or  medicine 
man,  however,  it  was  different.  The  old  na- 
tive had  lost  his  first  wife  and  married  an- 
other and  younger  one,  the  pretty  woman 
spoken  of  by  wide-mouthed  Curley  in  the 
Keewalik  roadhouse  some  days  before.  She 
was  a  full  blooded  Eskimo,  as  was  the 
shaman,  but  had  enjoyed  the  advantages  of 
travel,  having  visited  in  the  Nome  country; 
remaining  for  a  time  also  in  the  mission 
house  at  Kotzebue. 

Among  the  Selawiks  she  was  accounted  a 
beauty.     Her  cheeks  were  rosy  though  high- 
138 


"  The  pretty  woman   .   .   .  was  a  full-blooded  Eskimo  " 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

boned,  her  skin  dark  but  clear,  and  her  lips, 
not  too  full  for  symmetry,  repeated  the  tint 
of  her  cheeks  artistically.  She  was  fond  of 
weaving  bright  bits  of  color  into  the  two  long 
braids  of  black  hair,  and  decorating  in  many 
different  ways  her  fur  parkies  and  mukluks. 
She  was  proud  of  keeping  her  house  and 
person  as  tidy  as  possible,  while  her  versatil- 
ity allowed  her  the  use  of  many  English 
words  and  sentences. 

It  was  not  long  after  his  arrival  in  camp 
the  year  before,  that  the  young  prospector 
and  miner,  Gibbs  by  name,  began  looking 
upon  the  wife  of  the  old  shaman,  Kuiktuk,  in 
a  way  that  boded  trouble  for  someone. 

The  old  Eskimo  was  not  slow  to  perceive 
it.  It  was  not  his  custom  to  talk  much,  but 
he  was  often,  though  silent,  an  intensely  in- 
terested observer  of  the  white  man  who  so 
often  came  to  his  igloo. 

The  shaman's  wife  flirted.  Then  the 
shaman  sorrowed.  Like  a  philosopher  he 
bore  his  trouble  for  some  months  until  the 
spring  came,  the  snow  and  ice  left  the  Sela- 
wik,  the  young  white  man's  supplies  were 
low,  and  he  was  finally  seen  poling  his  small 
boat  down  the  river  to  the  Kotzebue,  appar- 
139 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

ently  leaving  forever. 

Then  Kuiktuk  took  courage,  picked  up  the 
broken  ends  of  his  matrimonial  cable,  and 
putting  them  together  as  best  he  could,  de- 
voutly hoped  he  had  seen  the  last  of  the 
youthful  lover. 

Now,  after  a  year,  he  returned.  Not  only 
so,  but  he  had  brought  others  with  him  who 
might  aggravate  the  situation;  and  the  old 
Eskimo's  heart  was  sore.  Gibbs  and  his 
men  had  made  for  the  shaman's  igloo  soon 
after  their  arrival  in  the  camp.  What  would 
happen  next? 

He  knew  their  object.  They  were  search- 
ing for  gold,  guided  by  the  man  he  hated 
but  whom  his  wife  loved.  She  and  her 
former  admirer  were  already  renewing  their 
acquaintance  of  the  year  before,  to  the  sor- 
row and  mortification  of  the  shaman. 

The  men  had  brought  trading  tobacco,  tea 
and  coffee,  with  which  to  gain  favor  with  the 
Eskimos  while  they  talked  of  the  unknown 
country  about  them,  its  possibilities  and 
probabilities.  Did  the  natives  know  of  gold 
in  this  region?  Had  they  seen  the  shining 
metal  in  any  of  the  nearby  creeks  or  rivers 
during  the  summer?  Had  there  been  re- 
140 


ports  from  neighboring  tribes  of  any  such 
discoveries? 

These  and  many  like  inquiries  were  made 
by  the  men,  but  were  answered  in  the  nega- 
tive. 

The  shaman  kept  silent. 

This  was  finally  noticed  by  Gibbs,  who 
immediately  imagined  that  here  was  the  only 
source  from  which  the  desired  information 
could  be  gained. 

Kuiktuk  had  intended  it  so. 

In  his  corner  of  the  igloo  he  had  rumin- 
ated long  and  earnestly.  Three  days  had 
the  miners  already  spent  in  the  camp  of  the 
Eskimos,  and  unless  they  were  encouraged 
in  their  own  way— that  is,  unless  they  were 
given  the  explanation  they  sought,  they 
might  remain  here  a  month  longer;  which 
stay  would  doubtless  bring  greater  disgrace 
to  the  shaman's  household  than  ever;  the 
sooner  they  were  told  where  to  find  the  gold 
the  better  for  all  concerned;  when  they 
would  again  take  to  the  trail,  and  he  would 
be  left  in  the  undisputed  possession  of  his 
Selawik  wife  whom  he  loved. 

"Cow-cow"  and  calico  were  kept  in  store 
for  the  natives  (the  white  men  said)  who 
141 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

would  point  the  way  or  guide  them  to  a  spot 
rich  in  the  desired  mineral;  and  who  needed 
these  things  more  than  he  and  his  family, 
reasoned  Kuiktuk. 

It  was  really  no  matter  if  the  gold  creeks 
were  omitted  altogether;  he  should  by  good 
rights  have  the  cow-cow  and  calico.  There 
were  reindeer  skins  which  had  been  secured 
the  year  before  by  Gibbs,  but  which  he  had 
forgotten  to  pay  for;  and  lastly,  there  were 
damages  which  should  be  settled,  for  had 
not  the  young  miner  stolen  his  wife's  af- 
fections and  well  nigh  broken  his  heart? 

Thus  Kuiktuk  continued  to  reason.  He 
was  not  revengeful  by  nature ;  he  could  easily 
have  slipped  a  deadly  draught  into  the  drink- 
ing cup  of  the  man,  but  he  had  no  wish  to 
kill.  He  only  thought  to  send  Gibbs  away 
about  his  business  in  order  that  his  own 
peace  of  mind  might  be  left  undisturbed.  To 
be  sure,  he  might  return  to  Selawik  unless  en- 
tirely put  out  of  the  way,  but  that  risk  would 
have  to  be  borne. 

Gold-bearing  creeks  and  rivers  were  little 

thought  of  by  the  Eskimos.     Their  use  for 

gold  was   small.     Given   an   igloo,    a   boat, 

fishing  and  hunting  tackle,   and  they  were 

142 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

happy  and  satisfied;  but  the  white  man 
should  be  taught  to  let  the  wives  of  the  Es- 
kimos alone,  and  that,  too,  right  early. 

All  this,  and  a  great  deal  more,  passed 
through  the  mind  of  the  shaman. 

On  the  evening  of  the  third  day  after  the 
arrival  of  the  miners,  while  all  sat  smoking 
before  the  fire,  Kuiktuk  decided  to  act. 

Taking  his  pipe  from  his  mouth  he  pulled 
himself  slowly  together  as  if  about  to  speak. 

"Say,  Kuiktuk,  old  man,  what  is  it?  Can 
you  tell  us  where  to  find  the  yellow  stuff  we 
look  for?"  keenly  inquired  Dunbar. 

The  Eskimo  slowly  nodded. 

"Is  it  far  from  here?" 

A  shake  of  the  head  in  reply. 

"How  far?  Where?"  eagerly  asked  the 
men  in  a  breath. 

He  pointed  in  a  southeasterly  direction. 

"How  many  sleeps?"  inquired  Gibbs, 
meaning  to  ask  how  many  days'  journey  it 
was. 

Kuiktuk  held  up  the  fingers  of  one  hand. 

"He  says  its  a  five  days'  'mush'  from 
here,"  interpreted  Gibbs. 

"Will  you  go  with  us  to  the  place?"  from 
Dunbar. 

143 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"Me  want  cow-cow  ameluktuk,"  mumbled 
the  medicine  man  slowly. 

"Yes,  yes,  you  shall  have  the  cow-cow," 
impatiently  cried  Dunbar,  "but  not  until  you 
show  us  the  place." 

"Me  want  cow-cow  ameluktuk,"  again 
muttered  the  man,  still  slowly  but  more  firm- 

ly- 

"Oh,  he  wants  the  grub  before  we  leave," 
said  Gibbs. 

"The  devil  he  does !"  cried  another,  who 
then  tried  to  explain  to  Kuiktuk  that  he  must 
produce  the  gold-bearing  creek  before  he 
was  given  the  food  in  payment. 

The  native  was  obstinate. 

"Cow-cow  peeluk,  gold  peeluk,"  indiffer- 
ently, from  the  medicine  man,  going  back  to 
his  pipe  in  the  corner  as  if  not  caring  for  fur- 
ther conversation. 

"He  means  no  grub,  no  gold— or  we  must 
give  him  the  supplies  first,  else  we  don't  get 
the  creek,"  again  interpreted  Gibbs. 

"To  the  dogs  with  the  fellow!"  cried  one. 

"He  wants  the  whole  cheese." 

"Let  him  keep  his  creek  and  be— blessed !" 

"Forget  it,  boys,  and  come  to  the  Kobuk 
with  me,"  laughed  one. 
144 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

"Let's  give  him  the  calico  and  beads,  but 
cut  out  the  grub,"  finally  from  one  of  the 
most  generous,  while  Kuiktuk  sat  stolidly 
smoking. 

The  latter  would  not  compromise.  The 
men  hated  to  part  with  the  supplies,  but 
dreaded  far  worse  to  lose  the  prospect  of 
that  good  creek  said  by  the  native  to  contain 
gold.  It  might  prove  another  Anvil,  who 
could  tell?  Possibly  it  was  not  so  far  away 
as  the  fellow  said,  Eskimos  were  never  well 
up  in  time  and  distances,  and  knew  nothing 
of  prospectors'  methods. 

This  was  what  Dunbar  argued,  and  he, 
being  the  eldest  of  the  party,  was  finally  al- 
lowed his  way,  and  that  was  to  pay  the 
shrewd  trader  his  price,  delivering  to  him 
the  supplies  agreed  to  on  the  next  day  be- 
fore they  started  out  upon  their  stampede  to 
the  creek. 

"Then  in  case  the  old  fellow  has  lied 
about  the  gold,"  said  Gibbs,  "we'll  hang 
him  to  the  nearest  tree." 

A  consultation  of  miners,  including  Kuik- 
tuk was  held.  Plans  for  the  trip  were  laid, 
the  route  selected  and  all  preparations  com- 
pleted. The  shaman  would  lead  the  men  up 

145 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

the  Selawik  River  to  its  head  waters,  as  the 
trails  on  the  ice,  though  poor,  were  level  and 
much  better  than  across  the  country,  where 
mountain  ranges  intercepted.  They  would 
then  head  due  south. 

Only  this  much  of  his  plan  did  the  old  Es- 
kimo reveal.  Secretly  he  wished  to  lead  the 
men  by  ways  they  could  not  possibly  traverse 
in  returning.  In  doing  the  latter  they  would 
not  wish  to  break  a  new  trail  unguided 
through  an  unexplored  region  of  such  mag- 
nitude, and  by  spring  the  ice  would  be  leav- 
ing the  Selawik. 

As  they  had  no  boats  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  them  to  return  as  they  had  come.  If 
they  came  to  Selawik  during  the  summer, 
he,  and  his  family  and  friends  would  be 
away  on  their  annual  fishing  excursion  and 
their  igloos  would  be  deserted. 

Thus  the  Shaman  planned  before  the 
start  was  made  for  Midas. 

The  weather  was  not  severe  and  signs 
were  propitious  for  "mushing".  The  men 
were  clothed  in  reindeer  skins,  with  sleeping 
bags  of  the  same  material;  their  dogs  were 
fresh,  and  they  themselves  were  well  fed 
and  rested. 

146 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

A  hundred  miles  or  more  were  as  nothing 
to  them  as  compared  to  the  trip  from  Nome. 

At  last  the  head  waters  of  the  Selawik 
were  reached  under  Kuiktuk's  guidance.  No 
white  man  had  they  seen.  A  few  Eskimo 
huts  were  passed;  game  was  more  abun- 
dant, and  as  they  came  into  heavily  wooded 
country  with  guns  and  ammunition  they  sup- 
plied themselves  with  ptarmigan  and  other 
winter  fowl  of  various  kinds.  Then  they 
hoped  to  kill  a  caribou  or  reindeer  which 
would  furnish  food  for  the  malamutes  as 
well  as  for  themselves. 

By  this  time  three  of  the  party  hung  back. 
With  the  Eskimo  guide  they  numbered  six. 
To  penetrate  still  farther  into  an  unknown 
wilderness  at  this  season  with  an  insufficient 
food  supply  would  be  foolhardy;  it  would 
be  better  for  them  to  return  to  Nome  by  the 
shortest  trail  and  again  secure  provisions. 

This  course  was  finally  adopted. 

Dunbar  and  Gibbs,  accompanied  by  their 
guide,  one  day  longer,  were  to  push  on  as 
speedily  as  possible  to  the  wonderful  creek, 
while  the  others  would  return  to  Nome. 
Here  they  were  to  rest  quietly  until  the  two 
had  made  fast  their  stakes  on  Midas,  and 
147 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

also  returned  to  the  city  for  supplies.  In 
the  meantime,  the  ones  to  reach  the  latter 
place  first  were  to  give  out  the  news  of  the 
discovery  of  a  magnificent  new  section,  the 
center  of  which  was  a  gold-bearing  creek 
of  amazing  richness.  Here  was  a  chance  to 
excite  the  credulity  of  the  people  of  Nome, 
than  whom  there  were  none  more  willing  and 
anxious  to  learn  of  new  and  rich  gold  dis- 
coveries; and  the  possibility  occurred  to  the 
miners  that  money  with  which  to  prospect 
the  new  Midas  might  be  collected  from  the 
citizens. 

With  this  understanding  the  men  parted; 
Kuiktuk  remaining  with  Dunbar  and  Gibbs 
for  another  day,  when,  giving  them  full  and 
explicit  directions  as  to  the  route  to  the 
creek,  as  well  as  a  complete  description  of 
the  same,  he  started  back  to  his  own  camp. 

Again  the  two  men  pushed  southward. 

"We're  up  against  it  now,  Dunbar," 
laughed  Gibbs,  "and  its  a  question  of  who'll 
win  out.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  the  old  ras- 
cal's appetite  we  would  have  made  Kuik- 
tuk come  the  entire  way  to  Midas;  but  he 
lowered  our  grub  so  fast  it  was  no  use." 

"No,  but  be  sure  you  don't  lose  his  rude 
148 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

map  and  directions  to  Midas  in  your  note- 
book. Without  them  we  would  indeed  be 
up  against  it,  as  you  say,"  replied  the  older 
man,  seriously,  as  they  were  making  their 
way  across  the  big  "Divide"  when  the  na- 
tive had  left  them. 

Snow  was  now  beginning  to  fall  in  large 
flakes;  a  storm  signal,  and  one  they  liked 
little.  The  temperature  was  falling.  It 
was  quite  dark  at  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, and  they  were  obliged  to  travel  by 
snow-light.  When  camp  was  finally  made, 
after  halting  for  the  night  in  a  thicket  of 
pine  and  spruce  trees,  the  men  were  cold, 
tired  and  hungry. 

Close  under  the  branches  of  the  pine 
trees  they  pitched  their  little  tent  for  shel- 
ter. A  big  fire  of  logs  and  branches  was 
kindled  in  front.  The  weary  malamutes 
and  their  masters  had  eaten,  and  lay 
stretched  upon  the  ground,  the  men  in  sleep- 
ing bags,  thrown  upon  boughs  from  the 
thicket;  the  dogs  upon  the  snow  near  the 
fire. 

The  latter  was  to  be  replenished  during 
the  night  from  the  pile  of  sticks  just  gather- 
ed, and  the  animals  would  act  as  sentinels  in 
149 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

case  a  wolf  or  bear  happened  to  stray  that 
way. 

Oh,  the  loneliness  of  that  winter's  night; 
they  were  surrounded  by  a  sheeted  wilder- 
ness, how  far  from  human  habitation  they 
did  not  know.  No  moon  or  stars  gave  light 
to  cheer  the  wanderers,  but  instead,  snow 
falling  heavily  and  noiselessly  over  all.  No 
winds  stirred  among  the  pines,  causing  them 
dead  silence.  The  one  solitary  sound  to  be 
heard  at  intervals  was  the  snapping  in  the 
fire  of  some  pine  knot,  long  since  broken  and 
dead  upon  the  ground,  or  clipped  from  its 
parent  stem  by  the  axe  of  the  prospector. 

When  the  storm  had  cleared  and  the  two 
miners  were  able  to  look  about  them  suf- 
ficiently, they  discovered  the  creek  described 
by  Kuiktuk. 

It  lay  between  high  hills,  locked  in  the 
icy  grip  of  an  Arctic  winter.  On  the  south- 
ern exposure  of  these  hills  grew  fir,  pine  and 
spruce  trees  of  no  great  size,  but  still  invalu- 
able to  prospectors  in  this  otherwise  inhos- 
pitable region.  Had  it  been  in  summer  time 
one  could  have  seen  a  narrow  and  sinuous 
creek  flowing  in  a  northeasterly  direction, 
emptying  itself  into  a  much  larger  and  more 
150 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

sinuous  stream  which  trended  easterly  and 
united  with  the  great  Koyukuk. 

There  were  but  a  few  low-lying  "benches" 
to  be  found.  The  hills  were  everywhere. 
They  sprang  from  the  earth  like  mushrooms 
in  a  moist  garden.  Their  summits  were 
rock-ribbed  and  sides  boulder-strewn. 

Worse  than  all  else  the  rock  was  granite. 
No  miner  of  experience  in  this  country  hoped 
to  find  gold  in  a  granite  section;  it  had  never 
been  known  to  accompany  such  a  formation 
in  Alaska,  and  these  men  well  knew  that  they 
were  check-mated. 

There  was  no  gold  there. 

They  had  been  duped.  When  further  in- 
vestigation had  confirmed  the  truth  of  their 
first  fears  the  rage  of  these  men  knew  no 
bounds.  Gibbs,  especially,  raved  like  a  mad- 
man, and  swore  dire  vengeance  on  the  na- 
tive who  had  been  the  cause  of  their  disap- 
pointment. 

It  was  all  clear  to  his  mind  now.  The  old 
man  whom  he  had  thought  so  docile  and  in- 
offensive as  he  sat  in  his  igloo  corner  smok- 
ing his  pipe,  was  in  reality  not  what  he  ap- 
peared, but  a  being  like  other  men,  having 
the  same  sensibilities  and  passions.  There 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

was  no  doubt  now  that  he  had  felt  the  great- 
est resentment  to  the  young  man's  course  in 
regard  to  his  wife,  and  had  quietly  plotted 
against  him  with  this  result. 

Dunbar  was  angered  that  he,  an  innocent 
man,  should  have  been  made  the  scapegoat 
for  the  shortcomings  of  his  companion;  de- 
claring that  in  doing  this  Kuiktuk  had  over- 
reached himself.  If  he  had  wanted  to  pun- 
ish Gibbs  he  should  not  have  selected  the 
whole  party  of  five  to  wreak  his  vengeance 
upon  in  this  manner,  not  knowing  when  they 
left  Selawik  that  three  of  their  number  would 
return  so  soon  to  Nome.  The  three  latter 
were  in  reality  as  much  dupes  of  the  old  na- 
tive as  they  themselves,  for  had  they  not 
gone  on  to  town  to  spread  the  news  of  the 
splendid  gold  discovery? 

From  this  standpoint  the  matter  was  rea- 
soned upon  by  the  two  men  sitting  before 
their  camp  fire,  and  ended  as  usual  in  an  ex- 
plosion of  violent  wrath  on  the  part  of  the 
young  miner. 

"Oh,  quit  your  cursing,  Gibbs,"  at  last  ex- 
claimed the  older  man,  ill-naturedly,  "and 
let's  decide  what  can  be  done.  I  have  a  plan 
which  I  will  unfold  to  you  if  you  can  stop 
152 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

swearing  long  enough  to  listen." 

"What  is  it?"  moodily  asked  Gibbs. 

"Let  the  boys  go  on  to  Nome  and  tell  as 
many  big  yarns  as  they  like  about  this  rich 
old  creek.  When  we  get  there  we'll  go  them 
one  better  and  make  the  eyes  of  the  Nomites 
stand  out  in  wonderment.  We  will  then  col- 
lect money  from  as  many  persons  as  we  can 
successfully  hoodwink  into  believing  our  stor- 
ies and  then  skip  back  to  the  Koyukuk.  When 
the  ice  has  left  the  rivers  we  can  change  our 
currency  into  gold  dust  at  some  trading  post 
and  quietly  leave  for  the  'outside'.  After- 
wards, if  we  wish,  we  can  carry  this  scheme  a 
point  farther  and  on  the  outside  sell  Midas 
ground  to  all  who  are  easily  gullible.  See?" 

As  the  man  said  this  he  leaned  forward 
to  get  a  closer  view  of  his  listener's  face. 
What  he  saw  encouraged  him  to  proceed. 

"What  do  you  say,  will  you  do  it?'" 

"It  is  the  only  honorable  way  out  of  the 
scrape,  eh?"  laughed  the  other. 

"Honor  be  d d !"  exclaimed  Dunbar. 

"Will  you  do  this  or  not?" 

"I  will." 

"Shake!" 

The  two  men  then  shook  hands,  sealing  a 
153 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

compact  diabolical  to  the  last  degree,  and 
without  further  hesitation  started  for  Nome 
the  next  morning. 

There  was  great  excitement  in  Nome. 
Five  miners  had  returned  from  the  Koyukuk 
country  and  given  out  information  of  a  gold 
"strike"  of  exceeding  richness.  Three  of 
these  men  had  arrived  before  the  others,  but 
all  told  the  same  story.  A  Selawik  Eskimo, 
they  said,  had  recently  guided  them  to  the 
creek  where  their  own  discoveries  had  con- 
firmed his  statement.  Nothing  so  rich  had 
they  ever  before  seen.  The  creek  gave  prom- 
ise of  being  one  of  the  most  famous  placer 
gold  diggings  that  had  ever  been  found  in 
Alaska ;  was  in  fact  a  veritable  Golconda, 
and  the  returned  prospectors  dilated  upon 
the  interesting  details  of  their  story  with  evi- 
dent enjoyment.  They  stated  that  the  forma- 
tion of  the  country  was  the  very  best  for  gold 
indications;  that  the  creek  was  wide  and  shal- 
low, the  benches  were  broad,  and  the  hills 
few  in  number  but  long  and  sweeping  like 
the  famous  hills  of  Solomon  and  Anvil. 

The  two  miners  went  further.  While  ex- 
patiating to  their  listeners  upon  the  extent  of 
the  possible  and  probable  contents  of  their 
154 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

new  creek,  each  man  exhibited  with  much 
gusto  a  medium-sized  "poke"  partly  filled 
with  coarse  gold  and  nuggets  which  they  had 
panned  (they  affirmed)  from  the  gravel  bed 
of  the  stream  after  cutting  away  the  ice  suf- 
ficiently; and  with  these  and  other  plausible 
tales  were  the  good  people  of  Nome  for 
weeks  entertained. 

To  their  three  companions  Dunbar  and 
Gibbs  gave  no  hint  regarding  their  actual  ex- 
periences at  Midas. 

The  secret  was  safer  with  two  than  five; 
but  five  men  could  arouse  greater  interest  and 
raise  more  funds  for  their  schemes.  For 
this  reason  the  two  leaders  kept  their  own 
counsel,  but  urged  the  spreading  of  the  false 
reports. 

Money  soon  began  to  flow  into  their 
pockets.  Everyone  wished  to  have  a  hand  in 
this  wonderful  "strike",  and  all  were  willing 
to  pay  for  such  interests.  Not  only  did  min- 
ing men  go  into  their  bank  books,  but  clerks, 
stenographers,  and  small  tradespeople  pass- 
ed out  their  hard-earned  money.  Women 
also  felt  reluctant  to  be  left  behind  at  a  time 
of  such  wondrous  opportunity,  and  plunged 
their  hands  into  all  sorts  of  nooks  and  cran- 
155 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

nies  for  their  long  hoarded  but  smaller  de- 
nominations. 

******** 

A  few  months  and  the  scene  was  changed. 
Two  miners  poled  their  small  boats  down 
the  Koyukuk  River.  Winter  was  gone,  tak- 
ing ice  and  snow  with  it.  Instead  of  these, 
the  waters  of  the  great  river,  fed  by  melted 
snow  and  tributaries,  surged  on  mightily, 
now  whirling  in  swift  rapids  where  huge 
boulders  impeded  their  progress;  or  to  lower 
levels  where  green  islands  caused  a  division 
of  the  floods  allowing  reunion  later. 

The  men  in  the  boat  talked  little..  They 
managed  to  drift  past  the  principal  mining 
camps  during  the  night  in  order  not  to  be 
much  seen.  To  be  sure,  there  was  no  dark- 
ness at  this  time  of  the  year,  but  the  camps 
were  not  stirring  much  through  the  night;  and 
in  the  event  of  a  near  approach  to  a  trading 
post  in  daylight  they  rested  a  few  hours 
among  the  willows  on  the  river  banks  or 
upon  some  island  in  mid-stream.  When  they 
had  slept  and  eaten  before  their  camp  fire 
their  journey  was  resumed. 

In  the  bow  of  the  boat  lay  two  sacks  of 
very  great  weight.  They  were  not  large,  but 
156 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

were  made  of  strong,  thick  material,  such  as 
is  used  for  tents.  Great  care  was  given  these 
sacks  by  the  two  men.  At  every  halt  along 
the  river  they  were  carefully  lifted  out  upon 
the  ground  above  the  reach  of  the  water,  and 
covered  by  some  article  of  clothing  or  bed- 
ding. 

The  sacks  contained  gold. 

The  men  had  come  from  Nome  to  the  Ko- 
yukuk,  where  at  a  small  trading  post  they 
had  changed  a  large  amount  of  currency  into 
gold  dust  and  nuggets,  mined  from  adjacent 
creeks.  With  this  they  were  making  their 
way  south  to  the  Yukon  River  where  they  in- 
tended to  go  quietly  on  board  a  steamer  head- 
ing up  stream,  thus  making  their  way  to  the 
Klondyke  and  later  to  the  States. 

Reaching  the  Yukon  River,  a  small  steam- 
er was  hailed;  they  boarded  her  and  soon 
smoked  contentedly  on  deck  in  the  sunshine. 

"Are  you  going  on  to  'Frisco'  as  you  first 
thought  of  doing,  Dunbar?"  inquired  Gibbs, 
for  these  were  the  two  Midas  Creek  pro- 
motors. 

"You  bet  I  am,  and  you  go,  too,  for  you 
are  pledged  to  the  scheme  to  the  end,  you 
know.  You  won't  back  down  now,  will  you?" 
157 


with  some  anxiety  the  question  was  asked  by 
Dunbar. 

"I  couldn't  with  honor,  old  man,  could  I  ?" 
and  the  young  miner  laughed,  tossing  a  hand- 
ful of  gold  nuggets  up  in  the  air  and  care- 
lessly catching  them  as  he  spoke. 

"There  you  go  again!"  said  the  other,  "If 
I  were  you  I  would  cut  out  all  the  small  talk 
about  honor  after  this.  It  isn't  consistent." 

"Agreed,  but  one  likes  to  hear  oneself 
mention  the  word  occasionally  as  a  reminder 
that  there  is  such  a  thing.  Then,  too,  if  one 
chanced  to  be  overheard  it  might  make  a 
good  impression  on  somebody,"  winked  the 
fellow  slyly. 

"I  never  thought  of  that  to  be  sure.  You 
may  be  young  in  years  but  you're  not  in  wick- 
edness. I  believe  you'll  do.  If  you're  not 
afraid  it  will  injure  that  blessed  honor  of 
yours,  go  fetch  another  bottle  of  the  best 
champagne  from  the  bar,  will  you?" 

"You  bet  I  will.  I'll  get  two  of  them 
while  I'm  getting,"  and  Gibbs  sauntered 
away  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  after  toss- 
ing his  cigarette  over  the  steamer  rail. 

When  Gibbs  returned  he  was  followed  by 
a  waiter  who  carried  a  tray  with  bottles  and 
158 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

glasses.  In  their  wake  were  others  who  had 
quickly  responded  to  the  young  miner's  invi- 
tation to  drink  with  them,  and  they  were  all 
presently  hilarious. 

In  this  way  were  the  two  men  scattering 
the  contends  of  their  gold  sacks— their's  by 
right  of  possession  only;  but  really  belong- 
ing to  the  townspeople  of  Nome.  Little 
cared  the  two  men  how  quickly  the  gold  sacks 
were  empty  for  they  had  the  ability  to  re- 
plenish them  when  they  liked.  They  were 
smooth  talkers,  told  plausible  tales,  looked 
one  squarely  in  the  eye  while  speaking,  and 
bore  no  marks  to  the  casual  observer  of  the 
rascality  underneath. 

If  people  were  so  easily  taken  in  it  was 
their  own  look-out,  and  served  them  right— 
this  was  a  much  quicker  and  easier  way  of 
mining  the  creek  gold  than  with  pick  and 
shovel — nobody  need  be  poor — "we  will  soon 
have  money  to  burn,  and  might  as  well  be 
hung  for  a  sheep  as  a  lamb;"  these  were 
some  of  the  arguments  and  observations 
made  by  the  two  miners  as  they  proceeded  up 
the  river  on  their  way  to  the  "outside"  and 

the  scene  of  their  future  operations. 
******** 

159 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

A  year  passed.  In  the  great  Koyukuk 
country  the  summer  had  come  again  and  with 
it  new  life  and  activity  in  the  way  of  pros- 
pectors and  settlers.  Craft  of  all  shapes  and 
sizes  could  be  seen  trying  to  force  their  way 
against  the  current  of  the  great  river.  There 
were  scows,  houseboats,  and  small  steamers. 
Families  there  were  on  flat  boats  which  ap- 
peared to  hold  the  earthly  possessions  of 
many.  Tents  were  pitched  on  scows,  and 
camp  stoves  with  their  accompanying  smoke 
stacks  peeping  through  the  canvas  did  full 
duty.  Mining  tools  formed  a  large  and  con- 
spicuous part  of  the  supplies  of  the  incoming 
prospectors,  for  they  were  to  exploit  a  cer- 
tain rich  section  of  country  still  in  its  virgin- 
ity, and  there  were  no  trading  posts  near. 

In  the  multitude  there  were  men,  women 
and  children.  There  were  outfits  costing 
hundreds  and  even  thousands  of  dollars,  but 
all  were  full  of  eager  expectancy;  for 
were  they  not  coming  to  one  of  the  richest 
gold-bearing  sections  in  Alaska?  And  had 
not  their  funds  preceeded  them  for  the  pur- 
chase of  claims  soon  now  to  be  opened  up 
by  them? 

It  was  small  wonder  that  they  were  light 
1 60 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

hearted  and  worked  early  and  late  to  get  to 
the  desired  place.  All  carried  descriptions 
of  the  famous  creek  and  its  surroundings, 
and  each  day  eyes  were  strained  in  a  west- 
erly direction  in  the  hope  of  catching  a  first 
glimpse  of  the  promised  land. 

They  had  come  from  the  Nome  country, 
and  a  dozen  different  states  besides;  the  Pa- 
cific coast  being  largely  represented.  They 
were  there  by  scores  from  farms,  from 
shops,  from  colleges,  and  from  the  great 
cities,  and  all  were  filled  with  highest  antici- 
pations. 

They  were  looking  for  the  creek  called 
Midas. 

They  found  it. 

Dunbar  and  Gibbs  were  not  there,  but  the 
granite  mountains  were.  Many  of  the  first 
prospectors  to  ascend  the  creek  left  their 
outfits  and  poled  even  farther  in  small  boats. 
Many  miles  they  toiled  between  banks  so 
close  and  around  curves  so  sharp  that  there 
was  small  chance  for  turning  a  tiny  craft; 
but  on  all  sides  it  was  the  same. 

Winding  in  and  out  between  great  bould- 
ers of  granite  which  had  in  some  tremendous 
upheaval  of  nature  been  tossed  aloft  like 
ill 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

snowballs  from  the  hands  of  a  schoolboy,  the 
waters  of  this  creek  struggled,  icy  and  sul- 
len. 

A  tall  and  distinguished  looking  gentle- 
man sat  in  the  stern  of  a  boat  while  his  men 
laboriously  poled.  He  was  from  London. 
He  had  outfitted  a  party  of  men  in  Nome 
many  months  before,  and  had  come  to  find 
his  gold  claims. 

No  staking  ground  had  been  done.  Close 
under  a  clump  of  pines  the  remains  of  a  white 
man's  camp  in  the  shape  of  tin  food  cans, 
and  broken  cob  pipes  were  found;  while 
scattered  near  were  the  leaves  of  an  old  note- 
book and  rudely  traced  map. 

No  further  proof  was  needed.  It  was  the 
identical  creek  called  Midas  by  Dunbar  and 
Gibbs. 

It  was  well  for  them  that  they  were  not 
there. 

The  heart  of  Alaska  in  winter!  It  is 
more  than  pen  can  describe.  Its  beauty, 
grandeur,  and  immensity  are  feebly  told  in 
words.  Snow  and  ice  are  everywhere,  and 
that  everywhere  seems  as  great  as  the  world. 
Hills  and  mountains  are  here  innumerable 
and  majestic;  while  rivers  and  creeks  unlimit- 
163 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

ed  in  number  and  of  untold  wealth  lie  safely 
locked  in  Nature's  storehouse  by  Nature's 
hand.  The  heavens  are  glorious!  the  noon- 
day sun  making  the  whole  earth  to  sparkle 
with  diamonds  like  the  gems  on  a  queen's 
bosom;  followed  by  hours  illumined  by  a 
moon  so  softly  and  brilliantly  beautiful  as  to 
appear  like  the  eye  of  a  god. 

Fully  as  wonderful  as  in  her  gentler 
moods  but  far  more  terrible  is  Alaska  when 
the  great  blizzard  rages.  There  remains 
then  no  signs  of  serenity.  Whirlwind  fol- 
lows whirlwind;  gales  from  the  ends  of  the 
earth  blow  horribly  and  with  frenzied  swift- 
ness, bearing  upon  their  breath  the  icy  points 
of  millions  of  keen  needles  which  bite  like 
the  stings  of  insects.  Flying,  sifting,  drift- 
ing snow,  which  before  formed  jewels  of 
such  exquisite  beauty  is  now  piled  mountain 
high,  or  sucks  itself  with  savage  fierceness 
through  crannies  and  into  deep  gorges  be- 
tween high  hills,  thus  creating  a  fitting  ac- 
companiment in  the  dangerous  crevasse. 

Into  this  wilderness,  north  of  the  great 
Circle,  and  amid  conditions  like  these,  one 
would  scarcely  hope  to  find  white  men  pene- 
trating. Probably  not  from  choice  would  they 
163 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

enter;  certainly  by  force  of  circumstances  if 
at  all;  and  these  must  have  been  the  most 
desperate.  Be  that  as  it  may,  a  small  trail 
of  smoke  one  day  made  its  way  aloft  from  a 
log  cabin  half  buried  in  the  snow;  while  a 
pack  of  a  dozen  malamutes  played  about  the 
door.  A  pile  of  logs  and  sticks  of  firewood, 
an  axe,  a  tin  bucket,  and  dog-sleds  near, 
gave  undisputed  evidence  of  the  presence 
here  of  someone  besides  natives. 

Entering  the  door,  a  visitor  would  have 
been  welcomed  by  two  occupants.  One  of 
them  lay  stretched  upon  his  bunk  in  the  cor- 
ner of  the  room;  the  other,  a  younger  man, 
threw  some  sticks  upon  the  fire. 

They  were  arguing  the  question  of  break- 
ing camp  and  pushing  further  eastward. 

"If  we  can  reach  the  Crow  Mountains  by 
spring,  secure  a  boat  at  Rampart  House  and 
work  along  to  the  Mackenzie  River  we  are 
all  right,"  and  the  speaker  bent  over  a  map 
of  Alaska  spread  out  before  him. 

"From  there  to  the  coast  is  an  easy  mat- 
ter, and  to  secure  passage  on  some  whaler 
for  Point  Barrow  will  not  be  difficult;  but  af- 
terward— " 

"Yes,  afterward,"  interrupted  the  man 
164 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

upon  the  bunk,  impatiently.  "What  about 
afterwards?" 

"We  will  find  a  way  into  Siberia  or  China 
where  we  can  enjoy  our  hard-earned  gold," 
with  a  sarcastic  emphasis  upon  the  three  last 
words  of  his  sentence,  but  laughing  lightly. 

"There  is  no  reason  you  should  not  do 
this,"  was  the  reply,  "but  with  me  it  is  dif- 
ferent. I  am  ill,  and  daily  growing  weaker. 
This  isolation  and  enforced  inaction  takes 
the  life  out  of  me;  my  head  grows  dizzy 
from  much  thinking,  and  I  see  forms,  spec- 
tres, and  hobgoblins  in  all  shapes  and  col- 
ors," this  was  said  complainingly  and  in  a 
weakened  voice. 

"My  dreams  are  so  horrible  that  I  dread 
the  prospect  of  night." 

"You're  a  fool  to  worry.  Keep  a  stiff  up- 
per lip,  and  all  will  be  well.  See,  I'm  mak- 
ing a  checker-board  with  which  we  can  kill 
time  when  we  like." 

"I'd  like  to  kill  the  whole  of  it  before  it 
kills  me,"  was  the  response.  "If  I  only  had 
something  to  read  or  something  to  do.  I'm 
sick  of  this  infernal  hole!" 

"Ditto  here,  but  what  can  we  do?  If  we 
push  on  eastward  now  we  will  probably  be 
165 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

without  shelter,  and  it  is  a  long  and  tedious 
job  to  build  a  log  cabin.  With  the  ther- 
mometer at  sixty  degrees  below  zero  as  it 
is  we  will  freeze  to  death  on  the  trail." 

"Much  loss  it  would  be,"  growled  Dun- 
bar. 

"Then  if  we  went  back  to  the  Koyukuk," 
continued  Gibbs,  "we  would  be  sure  to  run 
into  the  arms  of  some  of  our  numerous  min- 
ing partners  from  Midas,  which  we  are  in 
no  hurry  to  do.  We  are  now  about  half 
way  between  the  headwaters  of  the  Koyu- 
kuk and  the  Canadian  boundary  line,  and  as 
we  are  fairly  comfortable  here,  with  plen- 
ty of  game  and  firewood,  and  as  we  are  not 
sure  of  finding  a  shelter  for  our  heads  if  we 
move  now,  I  think  it  wise  to  stay  right  here 
for  two  months  longer  at  least.  With  our 
hunting,  eating,  sleeping  and  checkers,  the 
time  will  pass  if  we  wait  long  enough,"  and 
the  speaker  resumed  a  lighter  tone  while  try- 
ing to  encourage  the  other. 

"I  suppose  you  are  right,  boy,  but  I  de- 
test this  kind  of  a  life." 

"It's  a  heap  better  than  being  behind  bars 
for  a  lifetime  or  feeding  buzzards  while 
dangling  from  the  limb  of  a  tree."  Then 
1 66 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

seeing  the  horror  on  his  partner's  face,  he 
said  with  a  mockingly  polite  bow,  "A  thou- 
sand pardons,  old  fellow,  for  such  unpleas- 
ant allusions,  but  I  was  only  seeking  to  make 
you  more  contented  for  your  own  good  as 
well  as  mine." 

"I'm  tired  of  it  all,"  sighed  the  older  man 
wearily. 

"Oh,  no,  we're  not  tired  of  this,  Dunbar," 
seizing  a  gold  sack  from  among  a  heap  of 
them  upon  the  ground  in  a  corner  of  the 
cabin  and  emptying  the  shining  nuggets  upon 
the  checkerboard.  "These  look  as  good  to 
me  as  ever,  because  I  can  see  in  them  ease 
and  luxury  in  some  beautiful  southern  clime, 
where  the  birds  sing  sweetly  and  the  flowers 
bloom  unendingly;  where  we  can  find  sweet- 
hearts by  the  dozen  and  live  like  sultans — by 
Jove,  I  wish  I  were  there  now." 

The  other  groaned  aloud.  He  covered 
his  face  with  his  hands. 

"Take  it  away,  take  it  out  of  my  sight,  I 
tell  you.  I  hate  it!  I  hate  it!"  he  cried 
hoarsely  and  with  eyes  glaring,  as  he  leaped 
from  his  bunk  to  the  ground. 

The  younger  man  knew  that  he  had  gone 
too  far  and  tried  to  pacify  him,  putting  the 
167 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

gold  hastily  away  and  covering  it  from  sight. 
Afterwards  when  the  older  man  had 
grown  calmer,  the  two  went  for  a  hunt,  fol- 
lowed by  three  of  their  dogs  for  company. 
The  remainder  of  the  malamutes  kept  watch 

by  the  camp  in  their  absence. 
******** 

The  sun  had  long  since  sunk  below  the 
western  horizon.  Following  in  its  wake 
great  banks  of  luminous  clouds  swept  by, 
finally  culminating  in  a  heavy  sheet  of  haze. 

From  this  gradually  sprung  broad  arches 
of  light  to  the  zenith;  while  rays  of  bril- 
liant crimson  color  ranged  themselves  per- 
pendicularly from  earth  to  sky,  shooting  up 
and  down  with  great  velocity  and  tremulous- 
ness.  In  the  zenith  these  arches  slowly 
widened,  their  rays  multiplying  until  the 
whole  sky  was  hidden,  and  then,  deepening 
in  intensity  of  color,  became  a  veritable  sea 
of  blood,  flowing  steadily  westward.  Over 
the  vast  and  snowy  Arctic  waste  this  glorious 
flood  of  color  was  pouring  until  no  particle 
of  whiteness  remained. 

At  the  close  of  the  day  the  hunters  and 
their  dogs  were  returning  to  their  cabin  af- 
ter having  shot  enough  small  game  for  some 
1 68 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

time. 

A  solemn  stillness  had  until  now  prevailed, 
when  suddenly,  without  warning,  there  were 
heard  with  startling  clearness  on  the  frosty 
air  hissing  or  whizzing  sounds,  like  the 
crackling  of  firebrands  in  a  furnace. 

With  the  first  appearance  of  the  polaris  in 
the  heavens  Dunbar  became  greatly  excited, 
clutching  the  arm  of  his  companion  until  he 
cried  out  with  pain. 

"It  has  come  at  last!  Its  the  judgment! 
Its  hell,  hell !  See  the  blood !  See  it  on  my 
hands— it  covers  everything.  Hell's  every- 
where!" and  the  man  shrieked,  tearing  his 
clothing  from  him  and  darting  from  side  to 
side  as  if  trying  to  escape  some  awful  fate. 

In  vain  the  younger  man  tried  to  quiet 
him. 

"The  devil's  coming!  He'll  get  me!  Keep 
him  away!"  he  cried  with  curses,  and  he 
crouched  at  the  feet  of  Gibbs,  a  wild-eyed, 
and  screaming  maniac. 

At  that  instant  the  crackling  about  their 
heads  became  louder,  and  the  older  man 
sprang  to  his  feet  in  a  frenzy  of  fright. 

Leaping,  shouting,  cursing,  flinging  out  his 
arms  to  imaginary  assailants,  tearing  his 
169 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

beard  and  his  hair  by  handfuls,  he  ran  to  and 
fro,  a  raving  madman.  Then  in  an  insane 
frenzy  he  turned  his  back  on  his  companion 
for  one  instant  as  if  about  to  flee  to  the 
woods,  when  Gibbs,  snatching  his  revolver 
from  his  belt,  aimed  it  at  the  man's  back  and 
fired. 

Dunbar  fell  dead  upon  the  ground. 

Until  that  moment  the  dogs,  quite  uncon- 
cerned at  what  was  going  on  about  them, 
being  intent  only  upon  following  their  trail 
of  the  morning  back  to  the  cabin,  now  fled 
toward  home,  howling  dismally. 

The  young  miner  was  now  alone;  utterly 
and  entirely  alone.  Above  and  around  him 
shone  the  blood-red  light  from  the  heavens; 
at  his  feet  the  body  of  his  only  friend— dead. 

Gibbs  fainted. 

******** 

The  magnificent  electrical  hurricane  of 
the  night  before  had  passed  over,  leaving  be- 
hind one  faithful  sentinel — the  moon.  Lov- 
ingly and  brightly  her  beams  were  shed  over 
the  wilderness  of  snow  whose  purity  was 
marred  by  only  two  dark  blots — the  bodies 
of  two  men  lying  dead  upon  their  faces.  The 
first  died  by  the  hand  of  the  other.  The  sec- 
170 


WHY  MIDAS  FAILED 

ond  by  freezing.  Both  were  suddenly  called 
to  that  judgment  so  horribly  feared  by  the 
older  man,  who  saw  in  the  unusual  display  of 
the  aurora  polaris  the  realization  of  his 
worst  imaginings. 

So  these  two  men  fell;  while  the  influence 
of  their  evil  deeds  continue  like  the  ripples 
on  a  lake  surrounding  a  sinking  stone;  per- 
haps forever. 

"For  I  hold  it  true  that  thoughts  are  things 
Endowed  with  body,  breath  and  wings, 
And  that  we  send  them  forth  to  fill 
The  world  with  good  results  or  ill." 


171 


I 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  OLD  STONE  HOUSE 

HE  inhabitants  of  Rainy  Hollow 
were  greatly  disturbed.  In  the 
face  of  facts  there  really  was 
justification  for  such  excitement 
on  the  part  of  the  miners,  the  is- 
sue at  stake  being  an  important  boundary 
line  between  two  great  nations.  Those  loyal 
to  the  stars  and  stripes,  and  supporting  them- 
selves under  the  protection  of  their  beloved 
colors,  were  surprised  to  hear  hinted  the  pos- 
sibility of  their  being  placed,  against  their 
will,  under  the  jurisdiction  of  a  foreign 
power,  whose  hand  might  easily  prove  an  ar- 
bitrary one.  Restlessly  they  agitated  the 
question  at  their  miners'  meetings,  with  a  dim 
hope  that  some  solution  of  the  trouble  would 
present  itself,  and  ultimately  they  would  be 
left  in  the  happy  possession  of  properties  for 
which  they  had  endured  strenuous  hardships 
and  from  which  they  would  only  part  when 
compelled. 

From  the  channel  called  Portland  on  the 
172 


THE  OLD  STONE  HOUSE 

south,  along  the  coast  to  the  pinnacles  of  St. 
Elias,  ten  marine  leagues  were  supposed  from 
time  immemorial  to  be  defined;  neither  the 
channel,  the  salt  water  line,  nor  the  moun- 
tain's top  having  been  materially  changed  as 
to  configuration.  From  Mt.  Elias  a  perpen- 
dicular line  to  the  Frozen  Ocean  farther  out- 
lined the  boundary  between  the  two  nations, 
this  not  being  included,  however,  in  the  de- 
batable country  at  this  time. 

The  question,  then,  before  the  miners,  re- 
solved itself  into  one  peculiarly  simple.  It 
was  this :  Had  the  line  of  demarcation  been 
successfully  deflected  in  order  to  include  the 
natural  seaports  of  such  increased  import- 
ance since  the  gold  discoveries  in  the  Klon- 
dyke?  and  if  so,  how?  The  line  was  far 
from  being  imaginary.  In  the  long,  long 
ago  in  certain  places  natural  landmarks  had 
been  made  use  of  by  the  Russians,  but  where 
they  were  not  available  monuments  of  stone 
had  been  erected  at  intervals,  and  these  built 
in  solid  masonry  had  withstood  the  encroach- 
ments of  the  elements  for  more  than  fifty 
years. 

An  old  stone  monument  house  built  by  the 
Russians  almost  a  century  before  was  yet  to 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

be  discovered  by  those  of  the  "ten  leagues" 
theory,  and  it  must  be  searched  for,  but 
where,  and  by  whom?  If  this  could  be 
found  the  authenticity  of  the  old  boundary 
line  would  be  established,  and  those  in  au- 
thority could  place  their  hands  without  hes- 
itation upon  proof  which  must  be  decisive. 

Finally,  one  beautiful  day  in  summer,  a 
miners'  meeting  was  called,  and  the  Rainy 
Hollow  men  assembled  to  decide  what  they 
could  do  to  assist  the  government  to  put  an 
end  to  the  matter  forever. 

A  burly,  old-time  miner  and  pioneer  called 
"Dick  Dead-eye"  by  his  fellows,  was  made 
chairman  of  the  meeting.  This  name  was 
given  him  because  he  was  a  good  marksman, 
having  an  eye  which  seldom  failed  him  in 
taking  aim  with  a  gun.  He  was  seconded  by 
a  stranger,  who,  having  a  keen,  quick  glance 
and  well  knit  figure  dressed  appropriately  in 
leathern  trousers  and  leggings,  sat  at  the 
chairman's  right  and  evidently  "meant  busi- 
ness", as  Billy  Blue  intimated  on  the  aside 
to  his  companions. 

"This  meetin'  will  now  come  to  order," 
called  out  the  chairman  of  dead-shot  fame, 
giving  two  or  three  good,  hard  thumps  on  the 


THE  OLD  STONE  HOUSE 

table  with  his  heavy  fist. 

As  the  buzzing  in  the  room  ceased  and 
each  man  gave  his  attention  the  speaker  con- 
tinued. 

"You  fellers  all  know  why  we  came  here 
to-day.  We  have  with  us  one  of  Uncle  Sam's 
men  from  Washington,  D.  C.  He  has  been 
sent  by  our  government  to  look  up  the  mat- 
ter of  the  boundary  line  between  us  and  the 
Yukon  territory,  and  see  if  we  can't  git 
things  settled  rightly." 

At  this  a  storm  of  applause  greeted  the 
speaker  and  along  with  the  clapping  of  hands 
was  heard  the  thud  of  the  miners'  heavy 
hob-nailed  boots  upon  the  floor  in  emphasis. 

The  chairman  waited  for  silence.  When 
it  came  he  said: 

"I  have  the  great  honor  and  pleasure,  gen- 
tlemen, to  introduce  to  you  Lieutenant 
Adams,  our  friend  from  Washington.  The 
lieutenant  will  give  us  a  talk,"  and  with  that 
the  chairman  took  his  seat,  while  wiping 
away  the  perspiration  incident  to  the  exer- 
tion of  conducting  a  meeting  in  the  presence 
of  a  man  from  Washington. 

The  lieutenant  rose  quickly,  and  looking 
over  the  little  band  of  miners,  briskly  ad- 
175 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

dressed  them  as  one  of  their  number. 

"My  friends,"  said  he,  "you  have  all  had 
experience  in  locating  mining  claims,  but 
we  want  you  to  locate  something  else  in  or- 
der that  you  may  keep  possession  of  the 
ground  you  have,  and  that  is  the  old  Russian 
Boundary  Line  so  long  ago  established  by 
the  first  white  settlers  and  traders  in  Alaska. 
If  we  can  verify  the  boundary  now  held  by 
us  as  being  the  one  established  and  held  by 
them,  you  will  be  left  in  the  undisturbed  right 
of  your  property." 

"Hear!  Hear!"  exclaimed  his  enthusias- 
tic listeners,  causing  the  officer  to  smile. 

"You  probably  all  know  that  our  govern- 
ment bought  Alaska  from  Russia  a  few  years 
ago  at  what  seemed  at  that  time  an  enormous 
sum  for  a  frozen  good-for-nothing  country. 
The  transaction  was  designated  'Seward's 
Folly',  and  the  country  was  said  to  be  a  fit  res- 
idence only  for  polar  bears  and  Eskimos.  The 
whale  and  seal  industries  were  fast  reaching 
extinction  when  gold  was  discovered,  and 
this,  too,  in  such  vast  quantities  and  widely 
separated  districts  as  to  enormously  increase 
by  leaps  and  bounds  the  value  of  the  whole 
of  Alaska.  For  this  reason  the  matter  of 
176 


THE  OLD  STONE  HOUSE 

the  boundary  line  has  grown  to  be  of  im- 
mense importance,  and  in  justice  to  our  neigh- 
bors as  well  as  to  ourselves,  it  should  now 
be  authoritatively  settled  once  and  forever. 
What  I  want  to  know  is,  how  many  of  those 
present  will  assist  me  in  securing  evidence  of 
the  old  boundary  marks.  It  is  a  big  under- 
taking. We  shall  need  guides  and  boats.  I 
understand  what  it  means  for  miners  to  leave 
their  work  in  the  busy  summer  season,  but 
this  affair  is  urgent  and  cannot  be  delayed. 
Will  you  help  me?" 

"We  will,  we  will!"  cried  the  men  enthusi- 
astically. 

"I  thank  you  heartily,  and  hope  we  shall 
soon  accomplish  our  mission,"  and  with  that 
the  Lieutenant  took  his  seat. 

Great  applause  followed,  and  again  the 
cannonading  of  boots  upon  the  floor  was  put 
into  action. 

The  chairman  arose  and  called  for  order. 
After  a  little  time,  during  which  the  men 
gave  what  information  they  could,  it  was  ar- 
ranged that  Dick  Dead-eye  should  be  the 
Lieutenant's  guide  into  the  mountains.  The 
old  pioneer  was  acquainted  with  Indians  on 
the  Klukwan  River  who  had  lived  in  that  vi- 
177 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

cinity  for  many  years,  and  as  he  was  convers- 
ant with  the  Chilkat  language  he  thought 
they  could  get  the  desired  information.  The 
Klukwan  River  was  a  tributary  of  the  Chil- 
kat, rising  in  the  mountains  which  should  be 
their  first  objective  point. 

In  the  late  twilight  of  an  Alaskan  sum- 
mer's day  the  keel  of  a  little  boat  grated 
upon  the  pebbles  of  the  beach  at  Klukwan. 
Mission  and  the  west  arm  of  Lynn  had  been 
left  behind.  Here  two  small  rivers  emptied 
their  mountain  waters  into  the  big  Canal 
whose  long,  wet  fingers  persistently  pointed 
toward  the  Passes  and  the  Golden  North. In- 
cidentally, also,  they  indicated  the  direction 
to  the  disputed  Boundary  Line,  the  exact 
whereabouts  of  which  the  pioneer  "Dead- 
eye"  and  his  official  companion  had  come  to 
determine.  For  years  the  Lieutenant  had 
been  engaged  by  the  United  States  Govern- 
ment in  making  surveys  along  the  southern 
coast  of  Alaska  where  he  was  no  stranger  to 
the  Indians.  These  knew  him,  and  he  spoke 
their  language,  as  did  also  the  old  hunter, 
trapper  and  pathfinder. 

For  two  decades  had  the  old  hunter 
forced  long  trails  into  the  unknown  country 
178 


THE  OLD  STONE  HOUSE 

and  blazed  the  way  for  those  who  were 
speedily  to  follow  by  thousands.  To  him  Yu- 
kon and  Selkirk  were  household  words. 

So  their  landing  at  Klukwan  was  no  new 
experience.  In  truth  a  cabin,  substantially 
built  of  logs  and  stocked  with  edibles  and  oth- 
er comforts,  awaited  the  two  hardy  frontier- 
men.  Had  there  been  no  such  luxuries  they 
would  have  felt  as  much  at  home  sleeping  be- 
side a  camp  fire  in  the  open.  They  looked 
for  those  who  could  tell  them  of  the  doings 
of  white  men  who  landed  on  these  shores 
nearly  a  century  before,  and  for  those  who 
could  point  the  way  to  boundary  monuments 
wherever  they  were.  Of  necessity  they  must 
look  among  the  aged  ones  of  Chilkats  for  in- 
formation. 

On  the  day  following  their  landing  the  In- 
dians were  assembled,  and  inquiry  was  made 
by  the  white  men  as  to  the  location  of  the 
boundary  monuments.  Had  any  of  the  peo- 
ple present  ever  seen  such,  or  did  they  know 
where  they  were  to  be  found? 

Two  or  three  then  declared  that  they  had 
seen,  many  years  before,  a  Russian  Bound- 
ary House  and  knew  how  to  reach  it;  but 
they  were  too  old  to  walk  so  far,  or  climb  the 
179 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

mountains.  They  said  they  would  direct 
some  younger  Indian,  and  he  should  guide 
the  white  men  to  the  spot. 

Their  search,  however,  proved  unavailing, 
for  days  they  wandered  about  the  mountains 
and  even  reached  the  divide  indicated  by  the 
old  Indians;  but  nowhere  could  a  Boundary 
House,  or  anything  of  a  like  description,  be 
found. 

At  last  they  returned  to  Klukwan  for  sup- 
plies and  further  instructions.  There  was 
evidently  some  mistake. 

A  consultation  was  held.  An  Indian,  who 
had  been  upon  the  identical  spot  of  the 
Boundary  House,  must  accompany  the  white 
men  and  indicate  the  place,  if  possible. 

Some  one  mentioned  the  name  of  Old  Til- 
lie.  She  was  too  old  to  see  well,  her  teeth 
were  long  since  gone,  and  she  dozed  often. 
No  one  thought  her  able  to  walk  any  dis- 
tance; but  if  she  were  strong  enough  she 
could  locate  the  place,  if  anyone  could.  She 
had  been  there  in  her  girlhood,  seventy  years 
before.  When  she  was  asked  to  guide  the 
white  men  to  the  mountains  she  slowly  shook 
her  head  but  said  nothing. 

"Well,  Dick,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  "we 
180 


When  Old  Tillie 
was  young 


THE  OLD  STONE  HOUSE 

may  as  well  go  home.  It  is  too  late  to  do 
anything  more  to-day.  It  is  supper  time." 

Later,  when  their  meal  was  finished,  and 
tin  cups  and  plates  had  been  put  aside,  the 
officer  took  from  its  nail  an  old  banjo,  and 
began  strumming.  Presently  he  was  singing, 
and  his  rich,  clear  voice,  admirably  suited  to 
the  time,  place  and  surroundings,  filled  the 
little  cabin  and  floated  across  to  the  green 
where  the  Indians  camped.  Song  followed 
song,  and  the  guide  continually  puffed  his 
pipe  near  at  hand. 

By  and  by,  a  form  stood  in  the  doorway. 
It  was  old  Tillie.  She  had  heard  the  music 
and  had  hobbled  over  to  the  officer's  cabin 
to  listen. 

"Come  in  and  sit  down,  Tillie,"  called  out 
the  Lieutenant.  "Do  you  like  music?" 

She  smiled  and  nodded,  accepting  his  invi- 
tation. 

"Shall  I  sing  for  you,  Tillie?" 

A  low  spoken  affirmative  came  from  the 
old  creature,  who  had  seated  herself  near 
the  entrance. 

"I'll  see  if  I  can  remember  a  few  lines  in 
Chilkat  that  I  wrote  some  time  ago,"  said 
the  musician,  as  he  again  touched  the  strings. 
183 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

It  was  only  a  simple  song,  descriptive  of 
two  Indian  lovers,  and  it  ran  in  this  fashion: 

In  western  skies  the  sun  dips  low 

Above  the  purpled  hills, 
While  glinting  waters  and  their  flow 

The  air  with  music  fills. 

Filmy  and  light  as  fairies'  wings, 

The  fading  clouds  descend, 
Touching  with  finger  tips  the  strings 

While  leaves  on  green  boughs  bend. 

The  lone  loon's  call  unto  his  mate 

The  rustle  of  the  quail, 
Announce  the  day  as  growing  late, 

And  sunshine's  pleasures  fail. 

Then  out  upon  the  quiet  lake, 

In  tiny  birch  canoe, 
Ageeluk  and  her  lover  make 

Their  vows  for  weal  or  woe. 

In  Chilkat  tongue  the  lover  sings, 

The  song  all  lovers  know, 
To  dusky  maid  with  copper  rings, 

Where  long,  lank  rushes  grow. 
184 


THE  OLD  STONE  HOUSE 

The  shadows  lengthen,  slowly  creep 

Across  the  water  dark, 
While  little  waves  are  hiding  deep, 

Around  the  lovers'  bark. 

Content,  at  last,  these  lovers  leap 
Upon  the  steep  bank's  stone. 

The  leaves  are  still,  the  birds  asleep, 
And  they  are  left  alone. 

When  he  had  finished  the  song  he  paused. 
Tillie  seemed  fast  asleep.  She  had  slipped 
to  the  floor  at  the  beginning  of  the  song, 
and  sat  with  her  head  upon  her  drawn-up 
knees,  with  her  hands  clasped  above 
them.  She  made  no  move.  The  officer 
continued  his  singing,  still  softly,  and  in  a 
retrospective  mood.  He  was  a  born  musician. 
His  whole  soul  craved  song,  and  the  great- 
est deprivation  to  him  in  Alaska  was  the  lack 
of  music.  For  this  reason,  he  kept  his  own 
banjo  with  him,  and  many  an  evening's  en- 
tertainment had  he  furnished  in  cabin  and 
beside  camp  fire,  when  his  fine  barytone 
mingled  with  an  ascending  cloud  from  burn- 
ing spruce  knots,  and  added  enjoyment  to  the 
hour. 

185 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

At  last  the  old  Indian  raised  her  head. 
Pushing  back  a  few  long  wisps  of  hair  that 
had  fallen  over  her  face,  she  asked  for  wa- 
ter. Her  mouth  seemed  parched  and  dry, 
and  her  withered  lips  scarcely  moved.  She 
had  just  seen  the  old  stone  house  they  were 
looking  for,  and  would  tell  the  white  men  of 
it,  she  said. 

"Is  it  the  same  you  saw  when  a  child?" 
asked  the  officer. 

"Yes,  but  broken,— the  walls  stand  not. 
Last  moon  came  men  from  the  north  while 
hunting." 

"What  did  they  do?" 

"They  broke  the  house,— its  walls  are 
down,"  mumbled  the  old  woman  with  a 
scowl. 

"How  were  they  before,  Tillie?" 

"Before?  Ah,  before!  In  my  childhood 
I  saw  it, — that  Boundary  House  on  the  sum- 
mit. How  green  the  spruce  and  pine  trees, 
and  the  nuts  that  dropped  before  snow-fall ! 
What  fires  we  made,  and  the  roaring  and 
sweet-smelling!  How  dear  the  Indian  lovers, 
and  how  brave  in  bear  hunting!  With  teeth 
of  the  cinnamon  and  grizzly  we  made  chains 
for  our  necks,  and  with  breasts  of  water- 
186 


fowl  we  made  aprons.  In  streams  we  track- 
ed beaver  and  muskrat,  besides  mink  for  our 
coats  in  the  winter." 

"But,  Tillie,  old  woman,  what  of  the  white 
men,— the  Russians?" 

"Not  much  white,  but  dark,"  she  return- 
ed, correcting  him.  "Fine  dressing,  many 
knives  and  guns  in  belt,  buttons  bright  like 
money,  and  they  sit  on  animals,  big  like  cari- 
bou, what  you  call?  Yes,  horses.  Then  in 
boat  they  sailed  to  beautiful  island.  Lis- 
ten!" 

The  old  creature  placed  her  hand  behind 
her  ear  as  if  trying  to  catch  some  sound  or 
name.  Then,  brightening  up,  she  exclaimed: 
"Baranhoff  it  is!  Big  house,  fine  castle. 
Beautiful  laughing  ladies  in  lovely  dressing. 
Gold,  gold,  I  see  everywhere  on  fingers,  ears 
and  necks.  Money  plenty.  All  make  plea- 
sure, good  time,  dancing,  gambling;  drink 
tea  much  from  big  copper  dish.  Ah,  great 
man  many  sleeps  gone  by.  This  way  they 
dance,"  then  added  the  old  creature,  scram- 
bling to  her  feet  clumsily  and  catching  up  her 
tattered  skirt  daintly  with  each  hand  after 
the  manner  of  a  danseuse.  Then,  still  with 
closed  eyes,  she  glided  gracefully  and  with 
187 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

dignified  movement  over  the  floor  in  imita- 
tion of  long  dead  Russian  ladies  of  high  de- 
gree. 

The  Lieutenant  strummed  a  few  chords 
softly  upon  his  banjo,  but  old  Tillie  was 
drowsily  crooning  her  own  accompaniment 
as  she  swayed  backward  and  forward,  and 
seemed  not  to  notice. 

At  last,  wearied  by  her  unusual  efforts, 
she  sank  upon  the  floor  in  her  accustomed 
attitude  and  breathed  deeply. 

"But,  Tillie,  old  woman,"  urged  the  Lieu- 
tenant, who  had  not  forgotten  his  important 
business  with  the  Indians,  "what  did  the  men 
leave  in  the  old  stone  house  on  the  mountain 
to  tell  us  they  built  it?" 

"I  see  iron  box  and  many  things  in  it;  ket- 
tles, pipes,  spoons  and  a  big  knife.  I  see  small 
gun  that  shoots,  and  bullets  to  put  in  it. 
Many  things  are  in  box,  and  for  it  you  must 
dig  below  the  ground,  not  far,  in  a  corner  by 
the  old  chimney  there;  but  first  you  roll  the 
stones  away." 

"But  we  cannot  find  the  place  unless  you 
show  us  the  way,  Tillie.  Will  you  go  with 
us?" 

"Yes.  Me  quick  find  stone  house ;  but  Til- 
188 


THE  OLD  STONE  HOUSE 

lie  is  old,  very  old,  and  not  much  can  hurry. 
She  cannot  climb  mountains  like  young  In- 
dian," and  she  sighed  heavily  as  she  spoke. 

"You  shall  take  your  own  time,  only  show 
us  to  the  Boundary  House  on  the  Summit, 
and  I  will  pay  you  well,"  said  the  Lieuten- 
ant. 

The  following  day  they  started.  Every- 
thing that  could  be  done  for  the  comfort  of 
the  Indian  woman  was  done  by  the  two  white 
men.  When  she  was  tired  she  was  allowed 
to  rest;  and  at  night  a  bed  of  boughs  was 
made  for  her  near  the  camp  fire.  Along  the 
banks  of  the  Klahenia  she  led  them,  finally 
leaving  the  river  and  following  a  dry  creek 
bed  into  the  mountains. 

Not  since  she  was  a  little  child  had  she 
visited  this  region  except  in  her  vision,  when 
she  had  plainly  seen  her  route  and  destina- 
tion,— the  ruins  of  the  old  stone  house  on 
the  mountains. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth  day  the 
party  reached  the  desired  spot,  exactly  as 
old  Tillie  had  described.  The  Lieutenant 
and  his  man  found  it.  Clearing  away  the 
huge  stones  which  had  formed  the  walls  of 
the  house,  they  found,  upon  digging  in  the 
189 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

corner,  an  old  iron  chest  of  ancient  Rus- 
sian manufacture.  In  it  were  the  proofs  (if 
more  were  needed)  that  this  was  the  iden- 
tical Boundary  House  for  which  they  had 
been  seeking.  A  couple  of  small  copper  ket- 
tles, blackened  with  age  and  dampness,  like 
the  rude  knives,  clumsy  revolver,  and  bul- 
lets for  the  same,  as  well  as  a  few  old  pipes, 
spoons,  and  a  hatchet,  lay  as  they  had  done 
for  many  years,  in  the  bottom  of  this  old 
chest.  Upon  the  inside  of  the  latter's  lid 
was  inscribed  the  owner's  name — Petrofsky 
—  Russian  without  a  doubt;  and  a  rude  draw- 
ing which  clearly  traced  the  much  disputed, 
much  sought  out  Boundary  Line  between 
Alaska  and  the  British  Possessions. 

On  this  drawing  was  shown  the  very  stone 
house  upon  the  site  of  which  they  now  stood ; 
and  Lieutenant  Adams  and  his  companion, 
threw  up  their  caps  for  joy. 

Pressing  the  old  woman's  skinny  hand  in 
his  own,  the  Lieutenant  filled  it  with  gold 
pieces,  saying  as  he  did  so: 

"Here  is  money  with  which  to  buy  blankets. 

Take  it.     You  are  a  wonderful  woman,  and 

you   shall  never  suffer.     You  shall  have  a 

warm  house  and  plenty  of  coal  for  the  win- 

190 


THE  OLD  STONE  HOUSE 

ter,  and  I  will  see  now  that  you  reach  your 
camp  safely.  You  have  served  us  well,  and 
I  thank  you." 

So  saying,  the  white  man  covered  the  iron 
chest,  and  even  replaced  the  stones  above  as 
they  had  found  them.  They  then  returned 
to  Klukwan  and  their  own  cabin. 

Later,  the  Lieutenant  was  successful  in 
gathering  information  from  Indians  at  Ben- 
nett and  Tahku,  relative  to  boundary  marks 
and  monuments,  which  was  also  of  great  ser- 
vice to  him  in  establishing  the  fact  that  the 
line  as  it  then  stood  was  the  one  of  the  orig- 
inal Russian  owners,  and  that  no  power  had 
authority  to  change  it. 

By  arbitration  between  the  two  countries 
the  matter  was  finally  adjusted,  leaving  the 
miners  of  Rainy  Hollow,  as  well  as  those  of 
the  Porcupine  District  and  other  places,  in 
peaceful  possession  of  their  lands  as  they  de- 
sired; but  of  those  who  had  given  assistance 
to  the  United  States  officials  while  inquiring 
into  the  location  of  Boundary  marks,  none 
had  given  more  satisfactory  and  timely  aid 
than  Tillie,  the  Chilkat  Indian,  when  she  led 
the  white  men  to  the  Old  Stone  House  on  the 
Summit. 

191 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

f  •  ^HE  woman  I  loved  above  all  oth- 
|  ers  in  this  world  had  been  my 

I  happy  wife  for  a  number  of  years 

-*•-  when  we  decided  to  come  to  hunt 

for  Alaskan  gold. 

We  lived  only  for  each  other.  Our  attach- 
ment was  very  great,  a  feeling  which  at  the 
first  time  of  meeting  sprang  suddenly  into 
existence.  My  love  for  my  wife  was  my  rul- 
ing passion,  my  ambition  for  Alaskan  gold 
being  always  secondary,  as  were  all  other 
earthly  concerns. 

Her  attachment  for  me  was  of  a  like  na- 
ture, warm  and  sincere. 

My  greatest  anxiety  was  her  health.  Never 
entirely  robust,  she  had  gradually  grown  less 
so,  even  with  all  my  tender  care,  and  as  her 
mind  grew  and  expanded  her  body  became 
more  frail.  At  last  our  physician  prescribed 
an  entire  change  of  life  and  scene.  As  I  was 
not  a  rich  man,  and  must  wherever  I  went 
still  manage  to  bring  in  by  business  methods 
enough  for  our  support,  it  was  an  important 
192 


A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

question  with  us  for  some  time  where  we 
should  settle. 

Olga  (for  that  was  the  name  of  my  little 
wife)  wished  to  go  to  Alaska.  There  she 
thought  we  could  together  search  for  the 
precious  mineral  only  recently  discovered  in 
various  places;  and  though  the  journey  was 
a  long  one  she  argued  that  the  change  would 
be  beneficial  to  her. 

So  we  came  to  the  northern  gold  fields. 
Fortune  favored  us  for  two  years.  Our 
claims  were  turning  out  so  well  that  we 
planned  to  build  a  good  house  in  town  soon 
which  would  be  a  comfortable  home  until, 
after  the  further  growth  of  our  bank  account, 
we  could  leave  the  country  forever. 

Before  that  time  arrived,  however,  a  thun- 
der bolt  had  fallen — Olga  was  dead. 

I  had  gone  for  two  days  to  my  claims  on 
the  creeks  ten  miles  away,  leaving  her  alone. 
At  night  she  was  to  have  the  company  of  u 
woman  friend  in  order  that  she  might  not  feel 
lonely,  and  the  following  evening  I  was  to  be 
at  home  again. 

How  I  hated  to  leave  her !  Something  like 
an  unseen  hand  upon  my  arm  held  me  back; 
but  my  men  were  even  then  awaiting  my  or- 

193 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

ders  and  I  was  obliged  to  go.  To  remain  at 
home  now  meant  a  loss  of  thousands  of  dol- 
lars as  the  late  rains  had  so  swollen  the  creeks 
that  sluicing  was  in  full  blast  after  many  weeks 
of  waiting  on  account  of  scarcity  of  water. 

Olga  was  in  her  usual  health  and  smiled 
brightly,  standing  in  the  doorway  when  I 
pressed  my  lips  to  her  for  a  goodbye. 

"Don't  get  lonesome,  dear,  I'll  be  back  as 
soon  as  possible,  and  bring  a  good-size  poke 
full  of  nuggets  with  me,  too,"  said  I  hurrying 
away  in  the  direction  of  the  hills  where  my 
claims  were  situated. 

Looking  back  from  the  tundra  trail  which  I 
had  been  putting  behind  me  as  fast  as  possi- 
ble for  some  time,  I  saw  her  standing  in  the 
doorway  looking  after  me,  but  whether  she 
had  remained  as  I  left  her,  or  whether  she 
had  returned  to  the  door  after  going  inside, 
I  never  knew. 

The  next  time  I  saw  her  she  was  dead. 

I  had  walked  ten  miles  to  my  claim  and 
superintended  the  daily  "clean-up"  at  the 
sluice  boxes,  securing  as  I  had  said  I  would  a 
poke  full  of  golden  nuggets  worth  several 
thousand  dollars. 

It  was  a  splendid  clean-up,  but  for  some 
194 


A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

unexplainable  reason  I  was  restless  and  un- 
easy. I  had  seen  so  much  gold  it  was  getting 
to  be  an  old  story;  or  my  meals  had  not  di- 
gested well;  or  perhaps  I  was  working  too 
hard — I  tried  in  these  ways  to  account  for  my 
indifference.  My  mind  wandered  from  the 
work  in  hand.  I  looked  often  in  the  direction 
of  home  and  Olga,  but  the  hills  were  between 
us.  I  slept  fitfully  at  night,  after  waking 
with  a  start  which  disturbed  me  greatly.  At 
last  I  looked  at  my  watch.  It  was  past  mid- 
night, and  I  determined  to  go  home. 

Going  to  the  creek  where  the  night  gang 
was  at  work,  shoveling  into  the  sluice  boxes,  1 
told  the  foreman  I  was  starting  for  home,  as 
I  believed  something  had  happened. 

"You're  nervous !"  he  said. 

"I  don't  care  what  you  call  it;  I'm  going 
home  to  see  how  things  are  there,"  and  I 
hurried  away  toward  town. 

"Don't  worry,  Mr.  A.",  called  out  the 
man  after  me,  "Your  wife's  all  right,"  then 
in  a  lower  tone  to  himself,  "That  fellow'll  go 
daffy  over  his  little  wife,  as  he  calls  her,  if 
he  isn't  careful.  It's  a  good  thing  I  haven't 
any,  for  I  couldn't  watch  her  like  that  if  I  did 
have,  that's  certain." 

195 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

I  hurried  on  over  the  trail,  the  night  being 
light  and  clear,  the  grass  dewy,  and  the  sun 
about  to  rise ;  for  it  was  midsummer  in  Alaska. 

Afterwards  I  remembered  these  things. 

When  half  way  home  I  saw  a  horseman 
coming  toward  me.  He  was  riding  rapidly, 
and  when  he  drew  near  I  recognized  a  neigh- 
bor. He  reined  in  his  horse. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  A.,"  said  he. 

"What  is  it,  Peter,  tell  me  quick!  Has 
anything  happened  at  home?"  I  cried  impa- 
tiently. 

"Mr.  A.,  I  am  sorry  to  tell  you,  but 
you're"  — 

"Don't  say  she  is  dead !  Don't  say  that !"  I 
begged. 

"Mount  my  horse,  and  I'll  follow.  Go  as 
fast  as  you  can  for  the  animal  is  fresh,"  said 
he ;  but  I  heard  nothing,  saw  nothing.  I  was 
simply  clinging  to  the  saddle,  as  the  animal 
galloped  back  over  the  trail. 

In  a  dazed  condition  I  reached  home.  Our 
cabin  was  filled  with  sympathetic  friends,  try- 
ing to  assist  in  some  way.  As  I  came  in  they 
dispersed,  leaving  me  alone  with  Olga. 

They  had  placed  her  upon  a  couch  where 
she  lay  with  a  sweet  smile  upon  her  lips,  but 
196 


A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

they  were  cold  when  I  kissed  them— her  heart 
had  ceased  to  beat,  and  for  the  first  time  in  all 
our  lives  there  was  no  answering  pressure 
when  I  took  her  hands  in  mine. 

Oh,  the  agony  of  that  moment !  No  tongue 
can  tell,  no  pen  describe,  the  awful  loneliness 
of  that  hour.  She  had  been  part  of  my  life — 
of  me.  I  could  not  live  without  her;  I  did  not 
want  to  try. 

Oh,  God!  How  could  I  bear  it?  What 
should  I  do  ?  I  had  given  her  my  love,  my  life, 
and  now  she  was  dead— everything  was  swept 
away  and  there  was  absolutely  nothing  to  live 
for.  If  I  could  only  die !  Dare  I  take  my 
own  life?  No,  for  that  would  then  mean 
everlasting  separation,  as  she  was  doubtless 
now  in  the  happiest  state  to  which  mortals 
could  be  assigned.  I  must  try  to  reach  her  no 
matter  at  what  cost.  For  hours  I  knelt  beside 
her  with  her  hands  in  mine,  and  my  cheek  be- 
side her  cold  one. 

I  was  again  talking  to  Olga,  as  I  fondled 
her  face,  her  hair,  her  hands. 

"Speak  to  me,  my  darling,"  I  pleaded,  "if 

only  once  more.     I  cannot  live  without  you. 

Why  did  you  leave  me?    How  could  you  go 

without  telling  me?    Surely  you  did  not  in- 

197 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

tend  to  do  it,  did  you,  darling?"  Eagerly  I 
watched  her  face  to  see  her  blue  eyes  open 
and  her  lips  once  more  move.  Could  I  bring 
her  back  by  calling  her?  It  might  be  so;  and 
then  I  tried,  repeating  her  name  again  and 
again,  tenderly,  lovingly,  oh,  so  lovingly ! 

Hours  passed  thus.  The  smile  on  her  lips 
remained.  Presently  I  listened,  my  arms 
about  her  neck  and  my  head  upon  her  breast. 

I  was  quiet  now.  The  awful  storm  which 
had  well-nigh  uprooted  my  very  soul  was 
gradually  subsiding.  I  must  be  ready  to  hear 
her  if  she  should  come  back  with  a  message. 

This  I  believed  she  would  do.  Many  times 
we  had  talked  together  of  these  things,  and 
each  had  faithfully  promised  the  other  to  re- 
turn, if  possible,  with  comfort  and  assistance 
from  the  mysterious  beyond  in  the  event  of  a 
separation  by  death. 

I  could  see  her  now  as  she  looked  while 
speaking,  and  then  I  grew  calmer  immedi- 
ately. 

I  would  wait. 

By  and  by  it  came— only  two  words. 

"The  letter." 

The  letter  1  Where  was  it?  I  had  not  seen  it 
—  I  had  not  thought  to  look  for  such  a  thing 
198 


A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

because  her  departure  came  so  suddenly.  A 
burning  building  close  to  our  cabin,  with  wind 
blowing  the  flames  toward  her,  had  caused  the 
fright  and  heart  failure  which  deprived  me  of 
Olga — but  a  letter!  I  would  search  for  it. 

Among  her  writing  materials  I  found  it. 
A  sealed  packet,  directed  to  me  in  her  own 
dainty  Swedish  handwriting. 

I  cannot  reproduce  it  here.  It  was  for  my 
eyes  only,  and  written  a  week  previously;  but 
she  said  she  was  expecting  soon  to  be  called 
away.  She  did  not  wish  to  worry  me  with 
goodbyes,  and  in  truth  there  was  no  need  of 
saying  them  for  she  would  be  as  constantly 
with  me  as  ever,  even  though  I  could  not  al- 
ways see  her.  She  did  not  want  me  to  forget 
her  and  hoped  I  could  conveniently  manage  to 
keep  the  poor  little  body  (in  which  she  had 
lived  for  nearly  thirty  years)  quite  close  to 
me  where  I  could  sometimes  look  upon  her 
face. 

All  this  and  much  more  she  had  written; 
each  letter  and  word  of  which  comforted  me 
as  only  Olga  knew  how  to  comfort,  because 
she  understood  my  very  soul. 

We  had  been  made  for  each  other.  We 
were  souls  twinned  in  creation  by  a  higher 
199 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

power  than  many  know ;  but  it  had  been  given 
us  to  understand  in  her  lifetime,  and  now  that 
she  had  been  called  away  for  a  season  I  must 
bear  it  as  patiently  as  possible  for  her  sake, 
and  I  would.  God  helping  me,  I  would  bear 
it !  And  my  unreasoning  grief  should  not  dis- 
turb her  quietude. 

The  day  passed. 

In  the  evening  a  knock  at  the  door  brought 
me  back  to  my  objective  senses.  I  had  been 
oblivious  to  the  outside  world  all  day. 

"We  thought  you  might  like  some  coffee 
and  supper,  and  I  have  brought  it  to  you," 
said  a  kind  miner,  who  was  also  a  neighbor. 

"Wife  and  I  will  come  and  stay  all  night 
here  if  you  will  go  to  our  cabin  and  get  some 
rest." 

I  thanked  him,  declining  his  last  offer,  but 
drank  the  hot  coffee.  I  then  asked  him  if  he 
would  go  out  and  secure  the  use  of  the  adjoin- 
ing vacant  log  cabin  for  me,  so  that  I  could 
immediately  move  into  it. 

This  he  did,  returning  in  half  an  hour,  ask- 
ing what  further  service  he  could  render. 

I  told  him  I  would  move  all  my  belongings 
into  the  log  cabin,  leaving  Olga  here.  This 
was  her  house,  and  it  was  still  to  be  her  home. 
20O 


A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

By  midnight  this  was  done.  The  man  had 
gone  home  after  making  me  promise  to  call 
him  when  I  wanted  help. 

In  Olga's  cabin  of  two  small  rooms  there 
remained  only  a  stove,  a  couch  upon  which 
she  still  rested,  and  an  easy  lounging  chair. 

The  door  at  the  front  I  soon  padlocked  on 
the  outside,  and  barricaded  within,  leaving  the 
back  door  as  the  only  entrance.  Next  a  man 
was  hired  to  dig  a  narrow  trench  about  the 
Avhole  cabin  to  conduct  all  surface  water  away 
from  the  lot.  During  the  hours  following  I 
busied  myself  with  the  receptacle  which  would 
contain  the  still  beautiful,  but  now  discarded 
body,  of  my  darling  Olga. 

Carefully  removing  a  part  of  the  flooring  in 
the  center  of  the  room,  I  began  digging  un- 
derneath. The  ground  was  frozen.  A  pick 
and  shovel  in  my  hands  found  their  way  into 
the  frost-locked  earth  and  gravel;  but  at  a 
depth  of  about  five  feet  I  stopped. 

Her  bed  was  deep  enough;  also  long  and 
wide  enough.  Its  walls  were  of  ice. 

They  had  dressed  her  in  a  robe  of  pale  blue 

veiling,  distinctly  suited  to  her,  upon  which 

rested   the   long  braids  of  her  yellow   hair, 

while   her  only  ornament  was  her  wedding 

201 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

ring  upon  her  finger. 

How  perfectly  serene  and  happy  she 
looked !  I  fully  expected  her  to  open  her  lips 
and  speak.  When  this  did  not  happen,  the 
sense  of  my  awful  loss  surged  back  into  my 
brain,  seeming  almost  to  take  my  reason; 
but  another  quiet  hour  by  ihe  side  of  my 
darling  partially  restored  me. 

It  was  midnight.  A  perfect  storm  of  grief 
had  just  spent  itself  and  left  me  weak  and 
weary.  I  threw  myself,  with  a  heavy  sigh, 
into  the  depth  of  the  lounging  chair. 

Presently  I  slept.  What  was  that?  A  bit 
of  beautiful  yellow  light  floated  gracefully 
above  Olga's  head.  With  a  fast-beating  heart 
I  watched  it  from  my  resting  place.  It  grew 
in  size,  and  increased  in  height,  gradually  as- 
suming the  form  of  my  darling,  a  complete 
counterpart  of  the  one  lying  before  me  in  the 
soft  blue  gown. 

The  face,  the  golden  braids,  the  fingers, 
and  the  wedding  ring  were  all  there,  com- 
pleted by  a  smile  so  heavenly  that  I  gazed  as 
one  transfixed. 

Could  this,  then,  be  Olga,  and  not  a  stray 
beam  of  light  which  had  struggled  through 
the  curtains? 

202 


A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

"Olga!"  I  cried,  stretching  out  my  arms 
toward  her  in  an  ecstasy  of  gladness. 

"Dear  Victor!  Have  no  fear.  I  will  come 
again."  The  voice  seemed  like  Olga's  and  as 
full  of  love  as  ever. 

With  that  the  beautiful  yellow  light  began 
slowly  to  fade,  the  form  of  my  beloved  melted 
into  a  haze  which  drifted  gradually  upward 
and  out  of  sight.  Then  I  awoke. 

Weeks  passed,  during  which  the  fall  rains 
set  in,  and  I  was  working  as  hard  as  ever;  not 
so  much  in  a  feverish  desire  for  the  gold  I 
was  taking  out  of  the  ground,  but  because  the 
work  helped  me  to  forget  my  sorrow.  I  did 
not  cease  to  think  hourly  of  Olga,  but  I  wished 
to  put  behind  me  the  shock  of  her  sudden 
leave-taking,  and  remember  the  fact  that  she 
was  still  in  memory  mine,  that  she  was  watch- 
ing over  me  and  would  visit  me  in  my  dreams. 

My  all-absorbing  love  for  her  I  could  not — 
did  not  wish  to  put  away  from  me.  I  had 
loved  her  so  devotedly  that  I  envied  the  pass- 
ing breeze  which  played  among  the  loose  locks 
of  the  hair  on  her  forehead.  I  had  envied  the 
dust  of  the  road  as  it  clung  to  her  feet  because 
it  could  remain  so  near  to  her;  and  I  longed  to 
become  the  atmosphere  she  breathed,  that  I 
203 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

might  live  a  part  of  her  very  physical  being 
This  sort  of  love  never  dies,  because  it  is 
part  of  one's  constitution  and  sub-conscious- 
ness, and  cannot  be  eradicated. 

I  grew  more  and  more  silent.  I  was  physi- 
cally well  and  strong,  but  looked  forward 
from  morning  until  night  to  going  home  to  my 
cabin  and  Olga.  Each  evening  when  my 
lonely  supper  had  been  eaten  I  turned  the  key 
of  the  adjoining  cabin  door,  and  carefully 
locked  it  behind  me.  From  the  outer  place  I 
entered  the  room  which  was  now  a  sacred 
spot.  A  solitary  candle  gave  all  the  light  re- 
quired. Lifting  the  section  of  flooring  upon 
which  had  been  placed  two  strong  hinges,  a 
few  turns  of  the  mechanical  contrivance 
brought  up  from  below  the  narrow  bed  in 
which  the  earthly  form  of  Olga  rested,  se- 
curely covered  by  clear  and  heavy  glass. 

In  my  low,  lounging  chair  I  sat  for  hours 
beside  her,  told  her  of  my  love  which  would 
remain  forever  the  same;  I  reminded  her  of 
her  pledges  of  constancy,  reviving  instances  of 
our  past  lives,  even  bringing  to  my  mind 
bright  bits  of  pleasantry  which  had  been  hab- 
itual to  her  while  here. 

A,t  times  I  placed  my  cheek  upon  the  icy 
204 


glass  as  near  hers  as  possible,  whispering 
words  of  love — always  my  great  love,  which 
like  a  deep  and  flowing  well  refused  to  be 
stopped. 

At  last  one  evening  I  leaned  back  in  my 
easy  chair  much  wearied,  and  because  of  the 
stillness,  soon  slept. 

Ah !  She  had  come  again !  In  the  brightest 
and  purest  yellow  light  she  stood  there  bend- 
ing toward  me  with  a  radiant  and  happy  smile 
upon  her  face. 

"Victor,"  she  said,  softly,  "don't  worry  so 
much,  dear,  you  will  make  yourself  ill.  Be- 
lieve me  you  will  soon  cease  to  do  this  for  you 
will  know  the  better  way  and  find  real  happi- 
ness. I  know  that  this  trial  has  been  very 
hard  indeed  for  you  to  bear,  but  you  must 
not  grieve  longer,"  then  I  seemed  to  feel  the 
light  pressure  of  her  hand  upon  my  head. 

Oh,  the  joy  of  it  all  once  more ! 

"Tell  me,  Olga,  do  you  still  love  me  as 
well  as  before  you  went  away?" 

"Victor,  dear  Victor,  believe  me,  I  love  you 
far  better  than  ever  before,  because  I  under- 
stand. Try  to  be  happy,  dear."  Then,  with 
a  light  caress,  she  vanished. 

For  a  moment  I  felt  dazed.  I  looked  about 
205 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

me.  The  lighted  candle  was  sputtering  itself 
out  in  its  socket,  fitfully  darting  a  thin  and 
feeble  flame  upward  into  the  darkness.  My 
mouth  was  parched  and  dry — I  must  have 
water. 

Carefully  I  lowered  the  blue-robed  form  to 
its  resting  place,  adjusting  the  cover,  locked 
the  door  behind  me,  and  crept  back  into  my 
own  cabin. 

Time  passed.  With  a  young  lover's  regu- 
larity at  the  side  of  his  sweetheart  I  visited 
my  dear  one  in  the  little  cabin  beside  my  own. 
Casting  about  in  my  mind  how  to  make  the 
place  appropriate  for  the  purpose  for  which 
it  was  now  used,  and  at  the  same  time  be 
somewhat  more  comfortable,  I  had  covered 
the  walls  of  Olga's  cabin  both  inside  and  out 
with  a  heavy  black  paper,  well  calculated  to 
keep  out  the  wind.  Upon  the  ceiling  of  the 
front  room  hung  silvered  stars  which  shone 
brightly,  and  with  a  fitfulness  not  all  unnatu- 
ral in  the  flickering  candlelight.  In  one  corn- 
er of  the  outer  room  there  still  remained  the 
heap  of  earth  and  gravel  taken  from  the 
spot  where  Olga's  body  now  rested.  The 
rainy  season  was  far  advanced  and  before 
many  days  the  snow  and  ice  would  be  here 
206 


A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

for  long  and  weary  months.  My  mining 
would  then  be  over  until  another  summer.  I 
had  been  successful  beyond  my  dreaming  and 
could  afford  to  rest,  but  I  dreaded  the  tedious- 
ness  and  loneliness  of  winter. 

One  evening,  while  dozing  in  the  depths  of 
the  easy  chair,  I  saw  a  form  bending  above 
the  sand  and  gravel  in  the  next  room.  I  fan- 
cied I  heard  a  pleased  and  gentle  laugh  like 
Olga's  of  old,  and  I  asked  timidly,  "What  is 
it,  friend?" 

"Here  is  gold.  Will  you  pan  out  this  sand 
and  gravel?  You  will  be  repaid."  And  again 
I  heard  the  gentle  laugh. 

"What,"  said  I  in  astonishment,  "will  I 
there  find  gold?" 

A  gesture  of  assent  was  given. 

"Then  this  cabin  and  others  must  stand  up- 
on rich,  gold-bearing  ground?" 

A  second  gesture  of  assent. 

With  that  I  wakened.  I  immediately  pro- 
cured a  gold  pan  from  my  cabin,  and  used  it 
for  a  few  hours  to  good  advantage. 

The   ground  was   truly  rich;   and   Olga's 

form  was  lying  in  a  bed  literally  lined  with 

gold.     There  was  wheat  gold  as  well  as  dust 

and  small  nuggets.     In  my  agony  of  mind  at 

207 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

her  sudden  death  it  had  never  occurred  to  me 
while  digging  that  the  gravel  might  contain 
anything  of  value;  but  it  was  plain  to  me  now. 
Only  for  my  dream  I  would  surely  have  shov- 
elled the  sand  thoughtlessly  outside  where 
someone  might  have  made  the  discovery  to 
my  own  loss. 

Not  long  afterward  a  strange  incident  oc- 
curred. It  happened  in  the  following  way. 
It  was  raining  and  past  midnight,  being  one 
of  the  last  rainstorms  before  the  regular 
freeze-up  it  was  proving  to  us  there  was  no 
shortage  of  water  in  the  clouds  which  seemed 
wide  open,  and  it  was  pouring  in  torrents. 
For  four  hours  I  had  been  using  the  pick  and 
shovel  in  the  frozen  gravel  under  the  adjoin- 
ing cabin,  and  had  finally  gone  to  sleep,  lulled 
by  the  patter  of  the  regularly  falling  rain  upon 
the  roof. 

Suddenly  I  was  aroused  with  a  fear  of— I 
knew  not  what.  I  instantly  sprang  from  my 
bed,  striking  a  match,  and  getting  into  my 
clothing  as  rapidly  as  possible,  I  made  my 
way  through  the  storm  into  the  next  cabin.  It 
was  then  but  a  moment's  work  to  lift  Olga's 
casket  to  the  floor  from  its  icy  bed  beneath. 
As  I  did  so  a  small  stream  of  water  burst  its 
208 


A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

way  through  below  the  flooring  and  began 
pouring  over  the  side  of  the  excavation,  at  the 
bottom  of  which  only  a  moment  before  had 
rested  Olga's  casket. 

Like  a  flash  I  understood  the  situation.  The 
small  trench  around  the  cabin  had  filled  with 
water  and  become  obstructed,  while  the  heavy 
rain  had  saturated  the  surface  of  the  ground 
swelling  the  little  stream  beyond  the  capacity 
of  its  bank.  I  immediately  ran  out  of  doors 
to  make  a  search  for  the  obstruction,  which, 
once  removed,  allowed  the  water  to  pass  away 
as  before.  A  small  clump  of  grass  and  sticks 
had  found  lodgment,  having  been  swept  there 
by  the  unusual  amount  of  falling  rain,  and  in 
less  time  than  it  takes  to  write  it,  the  mortal 
remains  of  my  darling  would  have  been 
flooded,  had  it  not  been  for  the  warning  and 
my  prompt  response.  To  clean  out  the  small 
amount  of  water  which  had  entered  while  I 
hastily  worked  at  the  trench  was  short  work 
and  soon  completed. 

With  these  and  other  incidents  was  my  life 
henceforth  made  up.  For  months  I  spent  sev- 
eral hours  each  day  with  pick  or  shovel  in 
my  hands.  I  bought  the  adjoining  cabins  with 
the  lots  upon  which  they  stood,  thereby  con- 
209 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

tinuing  my  work  of  thoroughly  prospecting 
the  ground,  even  after  finishing  that  upon 
which  Olga's  house  stood. 

Following  my  practice  of  working  during 
the  midnight  hour  when  most  people  were 
asleep,  the  indistinct  noise  of  my  pick  in  the 
frozen  gravel  below  the  floors  aroused  no  one ; 
though  I  once  overheard  two  belated  pedes- 
trians outside  my  door  wondering  from  what 
quarter  the  noise  of  the  picking  and  shoveling 
came.  No  light  was  allowed  to  betray  my 
whereabouts,  as  a  single  tallow  candle  placed 
low  in  my  prospect  hole  beneath  the  floor  told 
no  tales;  and  once  hearing  the  sound  of  voices 
in  the  street  my  labors  instantly  ceased. 

After  a  few  weeks  it  was  whispered  about 
the  camp  that  strange  noises  proceeded  from 
the  mysterious  black  cabin  at  midnight,  and 
later  that  the  same  uncanny  sounds  seemed 
further  away.  Only  a  few  persons  had  ever 
heard  them,  and  they  assured  their  friends 
that  the  vicinity  was  a  good  one  to  keep  away 
from  at  night  time ;  the  latter  advice  pleasing 
me  quite  as  well  as  it  did  them. 

For  this  reason  I  was  never  disturbed;  and 
if  more  and  more  left  to  myself  by  my  neigh- 
bors I  was  not  displeased,  as  it  suited  my 
210 


A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

frame  of  mind  best  to  be  alone  with  my  own 
thoughts— and  Olga. 

Many  months  now  passed.  My  life  was  a 
very  quiet  one,  the  most  enjoyable  hours  to 
me  being  the  ones  spent  in  dreaming  of  Olga. 
Gradually  the  fact  dawned  upon  me  that  my 
life  was  now  a  most  selfish  one.  I  was  feed- 
ing upon  memories  of  dear,  by-gone  days,  but 
allowing  the  present  to  slip  unimproved  away. 
If  I  could  arouse  myself  to  some  good  purpose 
in  life,  and  take  a  hand  at  scattering  bright 
bits  of  happiness  to  console  some  lonely  hearts 
who  had  less  of  comfort  than  myself,  might  it 
not  be  better?  With  the  wealth  which  I  had 
rapidly  accumulated  in  Alaska,  I  could  assist 
in  much  good  work  for  the  poor  and  needy  if 
I  were  so  inclined. 

Perhaps  I  would  find  more  happiness  and 
contentment  in  living  henceforth  unselfishly, 
with  more  thought  for  others  and  less  for 
myself. 

Many  times  during  the  long  winter  even- 
ings I  had  felt  twinges  of  conscience  concern- 
ing my  selfish  mode  of  life,  well  knowing  that 
Olga  would  enjoy  spending  our  wealth  for 
the  good  and  happiness  of  others  before  ac- 
cepting luxuries  for  herself.  Now  I  had  come 

211 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

to  feel  in  the  same  way,  and  no  longer  craved 
riches  or  that  which  they  would  bring.  My 
own  wants  were  simple,  and  would  continue 
to  be  so.  I  would  make  others  happier.  The 
helpless,  homeless  and  suffering,  I  would  re- 
lieve. My  wealth  would  now  permit  it. 

In  this  manner,  and  by  my  dreaming,  my 
sorrow  had  been  somewhat  mitigated,  and 
that  grief,  so  terrible  in  the  beginning,  was 
to  some  extent  assuaged.  Not  that  I  loved 
Olga  less,  or  had  forgotten,  but  all  unknow- 
ingly I  had  been  striving  to  be  more  worthy 
of  her  memory. 

Daily  I  meditated  in  the  sweet  silence,  and 
hourly  received  strength  and  consolation 
therefrom.  Many  pledges  I  made  which  I 
would  fulfil  later  on— the  future  then  held  no 
terrors  for  me — I  would  work,  work  and  wait. 
More,  I  would  learn,  I  would  grow,  I  would 
climb.  I  resolved  to  reach  those  heights  to 
which  many  were  traveling,  and  to  which 
Olga  had  already  surely  attained.  In  due 
time,  my  Olga,  we  shall  no  doubt  meet  again 
and  live,  love  and  work  together  as  of  old, 
only  that  our  happiness  will  be  farther  per- 
fected because  we  have  farther  advanced. 

212 


A  MINER'S  OWN  STORY 

It  was  midnight.  I  seemed  to  visit  the  land 
of  Holy  Dreams.  In  the  distance  I  heard  a 
chorus  of  voices,  exquisitely  beautiful  and  well 
modulated,  coming  nearer  as  I  continued  to 
listen.  The  singers  were  many,  but  so  per- 
fect was  the  rhythm  and  harmony  that  I 
dared  not  breathe  for  fear  of  losing  some  part 
of  the  beautiful  song.  Not  only  so,  but  the 
accompanying  orchestra  faithfully  upheld  and 
completed  the  symphony  which  rose  and  fell 
with  crescendos  and  diminuendoes  more  glori- 
ous as  the  chorus  pealed  louder  and  nearer.  I 
was  listening  in  sheer  delight  and  with  each 
nerve  tingling,  when  a  dear  familiar  voice  be- 
gan in  obligato,  so  clearly  and  sweetly  that 
the  tears  sprang  into  my  eyes— 

"Have  love;  not  love  alone  for  one, 
But  man  as  man  thy  brother  call, 
And  scatter  like  the  circling  sun 
Thy  chanties  on  all." 


213 


I 


CHAPTER  IX 
EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

women  sat  weaving  baskets. 
They  were  not  Aleut  Indians, 
and  barely  escaped  being  Rus- 
sians; but  were  of  mixed  blood 
so  common  on  the  Aleutian  Is- 
lands. 

The  younger  one  broke  the  silence. 
"I'm  tired  of  baskets !  I  want  to  do  some- 
thing else,"  she  said,  with  a  yawn. 

"Run  out  upon  the  hills  awhile,  but  first 
finish  the  row  you  are  doing,  then  put  all 
away  in  a  safe  place.  No  Russian  leaves 
her  work  scattered  to  get  lost  or  soiled," 
said  the  older  woman. 

"Am  I  a  Russian  lady?"  queried  the  girl, 
apparently  about  the  age  of  eighteen. 

"You  may  be  if  your  father  comes  to  take 
you  to  Russia  with  him.  But  by  this  time  he 
is  likely  dead;— there  is  no  telling.  It  is 
three  years  since  we  saw  him,  and  he  prom- 
ised to  come  again  in  two."  And  the  woman 
sighed. 

214 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

"Oh,  he  may  come  at  any  time,  and  I  am 
going  to  the  top  of  the  hill  to  look  for  him 
now,"  said  the  girl  with  youth's  hopefulness, 
as  she  hastened  to  obey  her  aunt. 

"Don't  set  your  mind  on  it,  for  sailor  men 
are  very  uncertain;  only  they  are  pretty  sure 
to  roll  around  the  whole  world,  making  ex- 
cuses that  ships  take  them  whether  they  will 
or  not.  A  poor  excuse  for  not  coming  is 
better  than  none."  Then  as  the  door  closed 
behind  the  girl  she  added,  "I  wish  he  would 
send  money  to  buy  her  clothes;  it  would  be 
as  little  as  he  could  do,  for  she  is  not  my 
child,  but  my  sister's.  I,  too,  wish  he  would 
come,  for  a  cold  winter  we  have  had  taking 
much  coal  and  many  furs,  and  my  money  is 
nearly  gone.  To  be  sure  when  the  steamers 
come  with  their  hundreds  of  people  bound 
for  the  gold  fields  we  shall  sell  some  of  our 
baskets,  but  it  will  be  weeks  before  they  ar- 
rive," and  she  pulled  industriously  at  the 
long  strands  of  dried  grass  she  was  weaving 
into  her  basket. 

While  her  aunt  meditated  on  these  and 
various  other  matters  the  girl,  Eyllen,  glad 
to  get  away  from  the  cabin  and  basket-mak- 
ing, crossed  the  foot  bridge  over  the  small 
215 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

stream  which  ran  behind  the  house  and  be- 
gan to  ascend  the  high  bluff  which  she  claim- 
ed as  her  watch  tower.  If  she  could  only  dis- 
cern her  father's  ship  in  the  distance,  how 
surprised  her  aunt  would  be ! 

On  the  islands  the  winter  was  over.  The 
month  of  May  had  come  with  its  many  at- 
tendant delights.  Snow  had  gone  from  the 
ground  in  the  little  settlements  and  lay  only 
upon  the  high  hills  and  great  mountain  tops 
surrounding.  Down  gulches  and  canyons 
flowed  swift,  icy  streams  of  what  had  until 
lately  been  great  snow  masses,  but  which  on 
melting  had  left  bare  the  sides  of  the  tundra- 
covered  hills  where  the  brightest  of  wild 
flowers  were  beginning  to  spring  into  beauty. 

The  girl  was  not  blind  to  their  loveliness. 
Upon  leaving  the  cabin  she  had  determined 
to  bring  back  all  she  could  carry  of  the  blos- 
soms, but  not  until  she  had  well  scanned  the 
horizon  for  ships.  Her  father  might  even 
now  be  approaching  the  islands,  and  perhaps 
he  could  see  her  through  his  glass.  With 
this  thought  in  mind  she  pulled  her  hand- 
kerchief from  her  pocket  and  waved  it  en- 
thusiastically, although  as  yet  no  ship  had 
she  seen.  Seeing  some  little  children  far 
216 


She  scanned  the  horizon 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

below  in  the  village  playing  near  the  priest's 
school  she  laughed  aloud. 

"They  will  surely  say  I  am  bewitched  if 
they  see  me,  and  what  a  joke  that  would 
be !  I  am  certain  to  be  badly  quizzed  by  the 
youngsters  when  I  get  home,  for  there  is  no 
such  luck  as  to  escape  their  sharp  eyes  while 
standing  upon  this  hill-top.  It  will  be  a  won- 
der if  some  of  them  do  not  follow  me.  If 
they  do,  they  will  not  find  me,"  and  she 
laughed  again  as  she  hastened  on  over  the 
brow  of  the  bluff. 

Eyllen  was  lithe  of  limb  and  supple.  To 
mountain  climbing  she  had  been  accustomed 
since  a  baby,  and  was  well  and  hardy.  She 
now  stood  for  a  moment  to  take  a  fresh  sur- 
vey of  the  bay.  A  slight  breeze  was  blow- 
ing, and  had  tinted  her  smooth  round  cheeks 
with  crimson.  Her  eyes  sparkled,  and  her 
whole  face  betokened  earnest  and  animated 
thought.  Down  her  back  hung  two  thick 
braids  of  dark  hair,  but  the  ends  had  become 
free,  and,  left  unconfmed,  floated  pictures- 
quely about  her  shoulders. 

An  Aleut  Indian  she  surely  was  not.  She 
had  not  their  short,  dumpy  stature,  but  was 
slender  and  graceful,  and  would  not  have 
217 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

seemed  out  of  place  in  civilization. 

Having  satisfied  herself  that  no  vessel 
could  put  into  the  harbor  for  some  hours,  if 
at  all  that  day,  she  strolled  farther  on. 
Down  one  hill  and  up  another,  picking  a 
flower  here  and  one  there,  humming  as  she 
went  some  old  Russian  song,  her  time  passed 
in  evident  enjoyment  though  with  more  or 
less  abstraction. 

"I  will  visit  that  spot  again,  and  find  out 
what  there  is  so  strange  and  uncanny  about 
it,"  she  murmured.  "I  am  not  afraid,  for 
nothing  can  harm  me.  It  is  said  that  a  wo- 
man has  much  curiosity,  and  I  am  a  woman, 
so  that  will  allow  me  to  inquire  into  the  mys- 
tery, for  mystery  it  surely  is.  Why  should 
I  be  so  strangely  affected  when  visiting  that 
spot?  Why  these  sudden  head  pains,  and 
dizziness  as  though  I  were  about  to  fall  to 
the  ground?  Can  it  be  that  some  witch  or 
evil  spirit  dwells  there  and  is  displeased  with 
my  coming?  Does  it  belong  to  them  any 
more  than  to  me?  Have  I  not  the  right  to 
come  and  sit  beside  the  little  stream  as  often 
as  I  choose?  I  will  inquire  into  the  matter 
this  very  day,  and  solve  the  puzzle,  for  I  will 
never  rest  until  I  do." 
218 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

So  saying,  she  hurried  her  steps  and  was 
finally  standing  at  the  head  of  a  small 
stream,  where,  from  between  rocks,  the  wa- 
ter came  bubbling  to  the  surface  and  trickled 
away  to  lower  ground.  She  was  thirsty  from 
her  long  walk  and  climbing  in  the  sunshine, 
and  stooped  to  fill  a  drinking  cup  she  had 
brought  with  her  for  the  purpose. 

Suddenly  she  was  seized  with  dizziness, 
then  an  electric  thrill  or  trembling  passed 
through  her  whole  body,  and  a  wave  of 
faintness  swept  over  her.  She  felt  ill. 

Her  face  grew  very  pale. 

Was  it  the  work  of  one  of  the  witches  she 
had  heard  so  many  times  about? 

At  that  she  ran  away  a  little  distance  and 
sat  down  upon  a  grassy  knoll.  She  had  not 
yet  quenched  her  thirst,  and  longed  for  the 
water.  There  was  no  other  spring  near  at 
hand,  and  she  was  determined  to  have  a 
cupful  from  that  one.  The  witch,  she 
thought,  (if  a  witch's  work  it  was)  had  not 
done  worse  with  her  than  cause  the  sudden 
illness  and  disagreeable  sensations,  and  she 
would  repeat  her  visit  to  the  spring  and  se- 
cure a  cupful  of  the  water;  which,  though 
possibly  bewitched,  still  looked  as  pure  and 
219 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

sparkling  as  that  of  her  own  bright  moun- 
tain stream  near  home. 

When  she  had  fully  recovered,  she  again 
advanced  toward  the  spring.  Not  until  she 
stood  above  its  waters  and  peered  into  their 
shallow  depths  did  the  old  and  oddly  un- 
pleasant experience  repeat  itself.  Exactly 
as  before  it  happened  now;  but  the  girl,  al- 
ways a  determined  and  resolute  creature,  se- 
cured the  water  as  she  had  intended,  and  re- 
treated to  her  hillock  where  she  again  seat- 
ed herself  before  tasting  the  liquid. 

A  second  time  the  trembling  left  her,  not 
so  quickly  as  before,  perhaps,  yet  still  in  a 
very  few  moments  she  was  again  herself. 

Gingerly  she  sipped  the  water.  It  tasted 
clean,  sweet,  and  deliciously  cool.  Again 
she  cautiously  sipped.  Still  no  evil  effects 
from  the  draught.  Thus  encouraged,  she 
drained  the  cup,  laughing  aloud  as  she  did 
so. 

"Ha,  ha!  old  water  witch  of  the  moun- 
tains !  I  am  neither  afraid  of  you  nor  your 
twin  brother,  the  wind  wizard.  I  am  light, 
love  and  happiness,  and  you  cannot  harm 
me." 

Saying  this  she  began  braiding  her  long 
220 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

hair  with  which  the  breezes  had  played  so 
mischievously  during  her  rambles,  and  grow- 
ing more  serious  she  reflected  on  the  phe- 
nomenon. 

"It  is  in  the  rocks  or  ground  underneath 
the  spring,  and  not  in  the  water.  Surely  I 
have  proved  that.  Before  today  have  I  vis- 
ited this  place,  and  it  is  always  the  same.  I 
will  tell  no  one,  else  the  priest  may  say  I  am 
bewitched,  and  make  me  do  severe  penance. 
Only  once  more  will  I  approach  the  spring 
today  and  then  I  must  surely  go  home  or  I 
will  lose  my  supper." 

She  was  the  lodestone,  being  irresistably 
drawn  to  the  magnet,  which  was  apparently 
the  rocks  at  the  fountain. 

As  before  she  approached,  but  with  less 
trepidation.  She  began  to  lose  all  fear. 
Some  inner  monitor  urged  fearlessness,  and 
she  felt  full  of  courage. 

As  she  stooped  low  above  the  spring,  sur- 
rounded on  all  sides  as  it  was  by  ledges  of 
rocks  and  boulders,  she  determined  to  hold 
herself,  notwithstanding  the  decidedly  disa- 
greeable sensations  it  gave  her,  firmly  in  po- 
sition long  enough  to  get  a  view  of  the  bot- 
tom of  the  spring.  It  was  not  a  deep  pool, 
221 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

forming  a  mirror  for  all  above  it,  but  rather 
a  bed  of  loose  rocks,  evidently  from  crum- 
bled ledges.  These  latter,  crossed  the  place 
from  east  to  west,  but  to  the  careless  glance 
of  Eyllen,  seemed  simply  a  confused  jumble 
of  rocks  and  nothing  more. 

Several  of  these  pieces  were  light  and 
clear.  They  looked  attractive  in  contrast  to 
darker  ones,  and  being  washed  clean  by  the 
water,  and  made  brighter  by  the  sunshine, 
tempted  the  young  girl  to  reach  for  them, 
which  she  did. 

"See!    What  was  that?" 

The  rock  was  filled  with  shining  yellow 
specks  which  shone  dazzlingly  in  the  sun- 
beams. 

The  girl  gazed  in  astonishment  upon 
them. 

"Holy  Mother  Mary!"  she  ejaculated. 
"How  beautiful!  I  believe  its  gold!" 

With  that  she  made  a  dash  for  other  bits 
of  the  same  rock,  and  though  her  head  ached 
fearfully,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  stood 
upon  an  electric  battery,  which  was  anything 
but  pleasant,  she  secured  as  much  as  she 
could  carry,  and  fled  as  before  from  the 
spot. 

222 


"Holy  Mother  Mary!"  she  ejaculated. 
"How  beautiful!  I  believe  its  gold!" 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

Upon  examination  it  proved  to  be  the 
same  as  the  first  piece  discovered. 

Crossing  herself  devoutly  she  murmured  a 
prayer.  That  over  she  kissed  the  fragments 
of  quartz  in  her  hand,  talking  lovingly  to 
them  in  the  meantime. 

"Why  did  you  hide  away  from  me  so 
long?  Why  cause  me  to  think  of  witches,  but 
force  me  to  come  to  you  once  and  again,  and 
giving  me  the  illness?  That's  a  funny  way, 
you  little  rascals !  And  I  will  now  repay  you 
by  hiding  you  yet  longer  from  sight  of  any 
who  might  come  here.  I  will  cover  you  care- 
fully until  I  come  again,  or  until  my  father 
comes  from  across  the  ocean.  Then  I  will 
give  you  to  him,  and  he  shall  find  the  rest 
of  your  brothers  and  sisters."  She  pulled  en- 
ergetically at  the  moss  and  grass  at  her  side 
in  order  to  make  a  hiding  spot  for  her  newly 
discovered  friends,  as  she  chose  to  consider 
them. 

Before  putting  the  last  piece  beside  the 
others  she  again  kissed  it  tenderly,  patted  it, 
and  giving  a  little  gurgling  laugh,  said: 

"You  pretty  darlings !  Sleep  quietly  un- 
til I  come  again,  and  let  nobody  find  you. 
See?  I  will  tuck  you  up,  head  and  heels, 
225 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

with  this  cover,"  and  she  replaced  the  mosses 
and  grass  she  had  just  pulled. 

"By  and  by  you  can  make  me  very  happy 
if  you  will,  when  I  can  be  a  rich  lady.  I  have 
heard  old  miners  talk  lovingly  of  you  many 
times,  but  they  shall  not  find  you.  You  are 
mine!  Remember,  you  are  mine!" 

With  that  she  gave  a  last  look  at  the  spot 
where  her  secret  was  hidden,  and  bounded 
away  down  the  hillside. 

Presently  in  the  valley  below  she  struck 
an  old  trail,— one  made  long  ago  by  the  cat- 
tle belonging  to  the  settlement,  and  the  oc- 
casional tread,  perhaps,  of  a  few  reindeer 
and  goats  owned  by  the  mission  priest. 

Hurrying  along  toward  home  she  had  al- 
most forgotten  the  flowers  she  had  intended 
to  gather  but  now  had  little  time  to  leave  the 
trail  and  pluck  them.  For  the  sake  of  ap- 
pearance, however,  she  pulled  those  happen- 
ing to  grow  alongside  her  path,  not  wish- 
ing to  reach  home  empty  handed. 

As  it  was,  her  aunt's  sharp  eyes  took  no- 
tice. 

"To  be  gone  so  long  upon  the  hills,  and 
yet  bring  so  few  blossoms  ?  You  must  be  slow 
in  bending  your  back  or  heedless  of  the 
226 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

beauty  around  you.  Where  are  the  butter- 
cups and  beautiful  blue  iris  from  the  field  be- 
low the  hill?  Was  the  upper  bridge  gone 
that  you  could  not  cross  the  stream  at  that 
place  either  going  or  coming?"  asked  the 
woman,  a  little  sarcastically. 

"No,  no,  Aunt,  but  it  is  early  for  iris,  and 
the  buttercups  are  not  half  so  lovely  as  these 
bluets  and  violets.  See  the  darling  little  blue 
eyes  peeping  at  us !  Tomorrow  I  will  look 
for  the  iris.  But  let  me  eat  my  supper  now, 
for  I  am  very  hungry,"  laughed  Eyllen,  af- 
ter she  had  placed  her  spring  beauties  in 
water. 

"When  we  played  by  the  schoolyard,"  re- 
marked her  youngster  cousin  dryly,  from  be- 
tween huge  mouthfuls  of  fish  and  potato, 
"she  was  standing  on  the  high  hilltop  and 
looking  out  to  sea.  I  am  certain  I  saw  her 
wave  something  to  the  sailors,  only  there 
were  no  sailors  there,"  and  the  urchin 
glanced  roguishly  across  the  table  at  Eyllen. 

"Ha,  you  rogue !  It  was  likely  the  cor- 
ner of  my  apron  you  saw,  if  indeed  your 
sight  was  clear  enough  to  see  me  at  all  so 
far  away.  I  wonder  Father  Peter  allows 
you  to  let  go  your  fancy  in  such  manner." 
227 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"Father  Peter  wishes  us  to  learn  by  see- 
ing, he  tells  us.  Besides  I  wondered  how 
you  thought  to  pluck  flowers  on  that  barren 
hilltop  where  the  snow  is  hardly  yet  melted. 
Warm  and  sunny  hillsides  are  the  spots 
where  spring  flowers  grow." 

"There,  there,"  said  the  boy's  mother, 
"you  talk  far  too  much.  Eat  your  supper 
and  let  your  elders  alone." 

The  boy  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  gulp- 
ed down  his  tea,  having  finished  his  tea  be- 
fore the  others  owing  to  his  haste  in  begin- 
ning. 

The  older  woman  then  gravely  inquired  if 
any  ships  had  that  day  been  seen. 

None  could  be  reported;  and  the  young- 
ster was  soon  in  a  state  of  great  sleepiness 
in  bed,  while  the  two  women  washed  the  sup- 
per dishes  and  made  the  small  cabin  once 
more  tidy. 

That  night  Eyllen  slept  little.  On  her  cot 
in  the  corner  she  pondered  long  and  earn- 
estly. Just  what  was  the  nature  of  the 
strange  phenomenon  with  which  she  was  so 
lately  identified  she  had  no  idea.  She  only 
knew  that  the  mystical  rocks  lying  embedded 
in  that  spring  were  full  of  life  which  thrilled 
228 


Father  Peter 


her  tremendously  as  she  made  a  near  ap- 
proach to  them.  As  a  magnet  they  had  at- 
tracted her  until  finally  she  perceived  what 
to  her  constituted  discovery. 

How  very  strange  it  was !  Could  it  be 
possible  that  here  were  ledges  containing 
much  gold  which  no  one  had  ever  discover- 
ed, and  which  might  all  be  her  own  if  she 
could  succeed  in  keeping  her  secret  until  her 
father  should  arrive?  Of  his  coming  she 
had  not  the  least  doubt,  as  had  her  aunt;  she 
felt  positive  if  he  were  dead  she  would  in 
some  way  know  it.  It  was  springtime  and- 
the  season  for  vessels  to  put  into  the  harbor 
for  coal  and  fresh  water  on  their  way  to  the 
Arctic  Ocean;  and  they  would  bring  him 
sometime  she  felt  confident.  Then  he  would 
be  delighted  to  hear  of  his  daughter's  dis- 
covery, and  together  they  would  grow  to  be 
very  rich  indeed. 

Eyllen  was  a  sensible  girl  and  a  good  rea- 
soner,  but  her  knowledge  of  minerals  was 
exceedingly  limited.  Each  piece  of  white 
rock  was,  to  her,  quartz;  and  the  place  where 
gold  was  found  in  any  form  was  a  mine,  or 
would  be  one  later  when  developed.  She 
really  wished  to  find  out  if  there  was  more 
231 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

of  the  same  gold-bearing  ore  at  the  spring, 
for  unless  there  were  large  masses  of  it  she 
knew  her  discovery  was  worthless. 

Then  she  thought  of  her  often  recurring 
and  unpleasant  sensations  at  the  spring,  and 
it  occurred  to  her  that  here  was  a  way  by 
which  to  gain  further  knowledge.  If  she 
could  bear  the  headaches  and  dizziness 
might  she  not,  by  this  means,  trace  the  hid- 
den ledges?  It  seemed  reasonable  even  to 
her  inexperienced  mind.  But  she  would 
need  to  use  considerable  caution.  None 
must  see  the  gold-bearing  rock  which  was  al- 
ready so  fascinating  to  her.  In  some  man- 
ner, she  reasoned,  she  must  find  a  way  of 
gaining  information  about  minerals  other 
than  by  asking  questions.  Curiosity  upon  the 
subject  would  quickly  give  her  friends  the 
cue  to  her  new  interest.  She  decided  to  visit 
the  library  of  Father  Peter  in  his  absence, 
and  from  his  housekeeper  borrow  some  book 
giving  such  information.  By  talking  to  the 
good  woman  about  her  home  work  and  chil- 
dren she  could  manage  to  distract  her  atten- 
tion so  she  would  not  notice  which  book  it 
was  she  was  taking. 

In  this  way  Eyllen  planned  for  hours  be- 
232 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

fore  sleeping.  When  she  finally  slept  it  was 
to  dream  of  a  beautiful  water  witch  who 
lived  in  the  bottom  of  the  mountain  spring 
between  the  rocks,  but  when,  on  insisting 
upon  a  nearer  view  she  found  it  to  be  only 
herself  with  her  dark  hair  floating  around 
her,  she  laughed  aloud,  and  so  awakened. 
This  decided  her,  however,  upon  one  thing. 

She  would  search  for  a  tiny  fragment  of 
the  beautiful  rock  containing  as  much  of  the 
precious  mineral  as  possible,  and  wear  it 
suspended  about  her  neck  underneath  her 
dress;  as  this,  according  to  tradition,  would 
surely  preserve  the  wearer  from  witchcraft. 
Not  that  she  believed  herself  possessed  of 
any  spirit  other  than  her  own;  but  the 
strangeness  of  the  sudden  indisposition  at- 
tacking her  at  the  spring,  added  to  her 
dream,  caused  her  to  greatly  wonder. 

A  week  passed.  Eyllen  developed  a  most 
remarkable  passion  for  wild  flowers,  along 
with  a  sudden  and  vigorous  distaste  for 
basket-making.  She  declared  the  latter  oc- 
cupation gave  her  headache  and  loss  of  ap- 
petite, and  only  the  fresh  mountain  air  made 
her  feel  like  herself  again.  In  her  aunt's 
cabin  the  window  ledges  were  filled  with 
233 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

blossoms,  and  an  overflow  of  the  same  was 
furnished  the  priest's  housekeeper. 

Then,  too,  a  daily  watch  was  kept  for 
ships  from  the  westward  by  the  girl  whose 
strong  limbs  served  her  well  in  mountain 
climbing.  As  the  sun  grew  warmer  and 
clearer  above  the  islands,  she  could  see 
old  "Round  Top"  begin  to  breathe.  At 
times  this  mountain's  snowy  head  became 
quite  hidden  in  the  obscurity  of  misty  vapor 
or  smoke  clouds,  while  the  double  peak  of 
Isanotski,  rising  as  grandly  as  ever  to  its 
height  above  the  others,  seemed,  by  its  long- 
er-retained snow  cap,  to  assure  the  world  of 
its  superiority. 

Frequently,  but  cautiously,  she  rambled 
among  the  hills.  Patiently  she  investigated 
the  rocks  upon  the  hillside,  quickly  learning 
where  she  might  venture  to  be  free  from  the 
sudden  indisposition,  and  where  it  was  sure 
to  attack  her;  for  there  appeared  no  cessa- 
tion of  the  phenomenon.  With  the  hammer 
which  she  secretly  fetched  from  home  she 
hacked  the  out-cropping  lode  in  different  di- 
rections. Everywhere  in  the  white  rocks 
there  were  the  golden  specks  scintillating  in 
the  sunshine.  It  was  a  bona  fide  gold-bear- 
234 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

ing  ledge.  From  the  borrowed  book  she 
gained  much  knowledge  that  was  helpful, 
but  with  this  more  and  more  she  felt  her 
powerlessness  to  proceed  or  to  turn  her 
newly  found  interest  to  good  account. 

More  than  ever  she  longed  to  see  her 
father.  Between  her  walks  to  the  spring  on 
the  hillside  she  climbed  the  bluff  and  .con- 
tinued to  look  for  ships  from  the  westward. 
To  be  sure  other  vessels  were  beginning  to 
arrive,  and  to  welcome  them  the  whole  set- 
tlement habitually  turned  out  upon  the 
wharf.  There  were  empty  water  tanks  re- 
filled, repairs  made,  and  larders  replenished, 
while  ship's  officers  drank,  smoked,  and  told 
sea  yarns  in  the  saloons  along  the  water 
front. 

Thus  passed  weeks  of  waiting  to  Eyllen 
and  her  aunt.  It  seemed  that  the  monotony 
would  never  end;  but  it  did  end  suddenly  at 
last. 

One  day  as  the  two  women  sat  busily  at 
work  upon  their  baskets  the  youngster  of 
the  family  rushed  in  quite  breathless. 

"A  ship's  in  sight  which  flies  the  Russian 
flag!  She's  nearing  the  harbor  now!  Some 
men  with  glasses  on  the  bluff  have  sighted 
235 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

her,  and  signalled  to  those  below !  She  may 
be  coming  from  Vladivostock  and  bring  news 
of  my  uncle !"  and  the  lad  dashed  out  of  the 
cabin  and  down  again  upon  the  wharf. 

"Or,  better  yet,  the  ship  may  bring  him!" 
suggested  Eyllen,  in  a  flutter,  hastily  rising 
and  putting  away  her  work.  "I  must  see  if 
my  father  has  really  come." 

"I  trust  it  is  so;  then  will  my  prayers  not 
be  in  vain.  If  he  brings  money  again  will 
they  be  answered,"  said  the  girl's  relative. 

"If  he  brings  no  gold  his  daughter  will  be 
glad  to  see  him,"  said  Eyllen  in  a  slightly  of- 
fended tone. 

"I  meant  no  harm,  Eyllen.  You  surely 
understand  me.  Has  not  your  father  been 
always  welcome  here?" 

"Yes,  yes,  Aunt,"  and  tears  forced  their 
way  out  of  her  eyes,  as  the  girl  threw  her 
shawl  about  her.  "But  come,  we  will  soon 
find  out  about  this  vessel,  and  who  is  on 
board." 

The  ship  was  now  moving  into  the  placid 
bay  and  toward  the  shore.  From  a  flag 
staff  the  Russian  emblem  already  fluttered  a 
welcome  to  the  visiting  craft.  To  be  sure, 
the  shore  flag  was  accompanied  by  one  made 
236 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

up  of  stars  and  stripes,  and  this  last  floated 
proudly  at  top  of  the  mast  above  the  other, 
but  the  two  flags  seemed  not  to  be  on  un- 
friendly terms. 

At  last  the  vessel  swung  alongside  the 
dock.  Eagerly  did  Eyllen  and  her  aunt, 
standing  among  the  group  of  natives,  scan 
the  faces  of  those  on  the  vessel.  None  were 
familiar,  and  they  were  about  to  turn  disap- 
pointed away  when  they  heard  a  shout. 

Some  one  on  deck  motioned  to  the  two 
women  to  come  to  the  ship's  side,  and  they 
hurriedly  obeyed,  scarcely  knowing  what 
they  did. 

"Were  you  looking  for  someone?"  kindly 
inquired  an  officer  in  Russian. 

"My  father,"  replied  the  girl,  disappoint- 
edly. "But  he  cannot  be  on  board  your  ship 
or  he  would  have  been  out  to  greet  us." 

"Your  father's  name?"  asked  the  officer. 

"Fedor  Michaelovitz,"  responded  Eyllen. 

"He  is  on  board,  but  he  is  ill.  We  will 
fetch  him  ashore  presently,"  but  even  as  he 
spoke  two  men  passed  through  the  door  to 
the  gangplank.  They  carried  a  litter  be- 
tween them  upon  which  lay  stretched  a  man. 

Eyllen  rushed  toward  the  litter.  It  was 
237 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

really  her  father,  but  so  changed  that  she 
would  not  have  recognized  him. 

According  to  the  physician's  orders  Fedor 
Michaelovitz  was  placed  in  the  small  hos- 
pital established  upon  the  islands  for  sailors, 
and  there  he  was  well  tended.  In  a  few  days 
he  was  far  enough  recovered  to  relate  to  his 
daughter  his  story. 

After  leaving  her  three  years  before  and 
meeting  many  vicissitudes  and  disappoint- 
ments, he  had  at  last  gained  a  fairly  good 
position,  when  smallpox  overtook  him,  and 
during  a  long  illness  he  had  lost  it.  Recov- 
ering and  working  his  way  up  again  else- 
where, he  had  lived  frugally  in  order  to  save 
a  competence  upon  which  to  live  with  his 
daughter  in  their  own  country  to  which  he 
wished  to  take  her. 

When  his  wishes  seemed  about  to  be  real- 
ized the  bank  in  which  his  money  had  been 
placed,  failed,  and  he  lost  all  his  hard  earned 
savings.  Weakened  by  discouragement  he 
again  fell  ill,  and  then  he  decided  to  sail  for 
the  Aleutians  and  see  his  daughter  at  all  haz- 
ards. Penniless,  ill,  and  discouraged,  he 
was  a  man  who,  in  middle  life,  had  still  noth- 
ing to  show  for  years  of  work  and  hard- 
238 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

ships. 

One  redeeming  feature  of  all  this  dark 
outlook,  there  was  with  him  a  friend  who 
was  apparently  moved  by  the  misfortunes 
of  Michaelovitz,  and  that  was  a  young  Rus- 
sian sailor  with  whom  he  had  become  ac- 
quainted some  years  before,  and  who  fol- 
lowed him  wherever  he  went,  even  at  the 
risk  of  causing  a  corresponding  failure  in 
his  own  affairs  by  so  doing. 

The  young  man's  name  was  Shismakoff, 
and  he  had  proven  himself  not  only  kindly 
and  generous,  but  self-sacrificing  and  noble. 
Along  with  these  good  and  somewhat  unus- 
ual qualities,  he  possessed  more  than  average 
good  looks  and  abundant  patience.  He  it 
was  who  now  in  the  hospital  faithfully  at- 
tended Michaelovitz,  as  was  his  habit. 

This  young  man  had  been  told  but  little 
of  the  family  history  of  his  friend,  only 
knowing  that  his  wife  was  dead  and  that  a 
daughter  lived  upon  the  Aleutians  with  her 
aunt. 

This  much  he  knew  upon  landing.     At 

sight  of  Eyllen's  bright  eyes  and  rosy  cheeks 

the  young  man's  heart  fluttered.     She  was 

good  to  look  upon.     Without  commenting 

239 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

upon  it  even  to  himself  he  immediately  pro- 
ceeded to  take,  as  compensation  for  atten- 
tions to  her  sick  father,  such  keen  enjoyment 
in  her  presence  as  only  those  long  isolated 
can  know  in  the  society  of  ladies.  Not  that 
he  forgot  his  manliness.  For  that  the  young 
man  was  too  sensible;  but  he  simply  drank 
in  every  word  uttered  by  the  young  girl,  as 
a  thirsty  traveler  would  drink  fresh  water 
in  a  parched  and  burning  desert. 

The  girl,  herself,  was  unconstrained. 
Probably  in  this  lay  her  greatest  attraction. 
She  had  other  hopes  and  interests,  and  they 
were  centered  in  her  father's  recovery,  and 
in  her  rocks  a  few  miles  away  on  the  hill- 
side. 

Eyllen  did  not  immediately  relate  her  ad- 
ventures to  her  father.  He  must  recover  his 
health  before  she  disclosed  her  secret.  To 
this  end  she  now  bent  all  her  energies.  A 
basket  was  traded  to  a  neighbor  for  fowls 
in  order  that  he  might  have  nourishing 
broths,  and  her  fishing  tackle  was  brought 
into  play  to  furnish  the  freshest  of  fish  from 
the  bay. 

With  attendants  like  Eyllen  and  Shisma- 
koff,  who  could  long  remain  upon  a  sick  bed? 
240 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

Especially  on  these  beautiful  green  islands 
in  spring-time?  Greatest  of  all  grasses  were 
those  growing  before  the  doors,  and  bright- 
est of  all  blossoms  were  those  plucked  by  the 
hands  of  Eyllen.  Sweet  was  the  fragrance 
of  iris  and  violets,  and  lupins  grew  straight 
stalked  and  fearless.  Lilies,  too,  appeared 
later,  and  all  crowded  the  windows  of  the 
invalid  whose  heart  was  gladdened,  soften- 
ed, and  refreshed  by  their  sweet  and  silent 
influence. 

At  her  basket  work  Eyllen  sat  daily  for 
hours  with  her  father,  until  he  was  strong 
enough  to  walk  to  her  relative's  cabin.  Of 
course  it  was  only  to  be  expected  that  Shis- 
makoff  would  accompany  them.  Upon  one 
side  of  the  convalescent  he  furnished  sup- 
port, while  Eyllen  assisted  on  the  other. 

The  girl's  aunt  had  prepared  a  dinner  es- 
pecially for  the  visitors,  at  which  the  incor- 
rigible youngster  had  been  instructed  to  ap- 
pear only  when  his  elders  had  finished.  It 
was  Saturday,  and  the  priest's  school  was 
not  in  session  that  day.  Freedom  from  this 
restraint  had  had  its  effect  upon  the  urchin, 
and  his  mother  found  it  in  her  heart  to  fre- 
quently wish  that  it  had  been  a  school  day  in- 
241 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

stead.  With  care  she  instructed  him  in  what 
manner  to  behave  himself,  and  what  things 
he  must  under  no  consideration  do,  one  of 
which  was  not  to  talk  too  much. 

"In  that  case,  mother,  what  I  do  say  must 
count,"  said  the  boy,  not  dull  as  to  wit. 

"Count  fifty  before  you  speak  at  all.  Then 
you  must  consider  what  you  say,  and  you 
will  not  be  foolish.  I  daresay  you  will  still 
show  yourself  feather-headed  enough,"  and 
his  mother  sighed,  apparently  striving  to  be 
resigned  to  the  suspense  of  her  position. 

The  visitors  were  telling  of  their  recent 
voyage  to  the  islands.  The  youngster  could 
keep  quiet  no  longer. 

"Eyllen  has  been  long  expecting  you,  Mr. 
Shismakoff.  She  often  went  to  the  hilltop  to 
wave  to  you,  and  I  suppose  she  also  called 
you.  Did  you  hear  her  across  the  water, 
and  come  in  answer?" 

The  young  man  smiled. 

"Be  silent!  you  naughty  boy!"  command- 
ed his  mother,  with  as  much  force  as  she 
could  master. 

Eyllen's  color  grew  like  the  wild  roses  in 
the  window. 

"Did  you  hear  her  calling?"  persisted  the 
242 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

mischief  loving  youngster. 

"I  do  not  think  so.  I  take  it  the  saints  di- 
rected me  here,  for  none  but  they  could  bring 
me  this  present  happiness,"  said  the  visitor, 
gallantly  inclining  his  head  to  the  one  with 
the  roses  in  her  cheeks. 

At  this  point  Eyllen's  father  began  to 
speak  of  other  things,  and  the  irrepressible 
youngster  subsided;  while  Eyllen  and  her 
aunt  looked  modestly  down  upon  the  plates 
before  them. 

Two  weeks  passed.  The  ship  which 
brought  the  sick  man  and  his  friend  had  de- 
parted, leaving  them  behind.  None  were 
sad  at  its  going.  Eyllen's  father  was  rapid- 
ly improving,  and  gradually  grew  to  feel 
that  life  was,  after  all,  worth  having.  To 
the  younger  man,  each  hour  in  the  presence 
of  Eyllen  seemed  brighter  even  than  the  one 
before  it,  and  a  longing  for  many  of  the 
same  in  the  future  took  possession  of  him. 
There  was  no  real  enjoyment  out  of  her 
sight.  His  former  existence  looked  to  him 
a  blank.  He  could  not  go  back  to  it.  He 
could  not  leave  this  green  island,  the  clear 
mountain  air  made  salt  by  great  encircling 
waters  and  scented  by  spring  blossoms. 
243 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

There  were  no  fish  like  those  in  these  waters, 
and  no  winds  so  free  as  the  ones  playing 
over  the  crests  of  Progromni  and  Shishaldin. 
Finally,  nowhere  in  the  whole  world  was  an 
equal  to  Eyllen  among  women. 

This  last  consideration  settled  every- 
thing. He  was  determined  to  win  her  in 
marriage  if  possible,  but  her  father  no  long- 
er needed  attention,  and  he  bethought  him- 
self to  set  to  work  at  something  by  which  to 
earn  money.  More  fishermen  were  in  de- 
mand at  this  time  in  the  settlement  to  sup- 
ply the  constantly  arriving  ships  with  fresh 
fish,  and  he  devoted  himself  temporarily  to 
this  labor. 

In  her  turn  Eyllen  was  interested  in  Shis- 
makoff,  but  she  longed  to  disclose  her  secret 
to  her  father,  who,  she  felt  confident,  could 
not  refrain  from  sharing  it  with  his  friend. 
To  this  she  could  not  yet  consent.  She  had 
suddenly  grown  wise  with  a  wisdom  not  be- 
fore exhibited.  If  the  young  man  loved  her 
as  she  felt  that  he  did,  might  not  the  know- 
ledge of  her  secret  urge  him  to  increase  his 
attention?  In  all  probability  it  would,  and 
she  heartily  repudiated  this  idea. 

Of  all  things  in  the  world,  to  be  loved  for 
244 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

her  gold-bearing  ledges  would  be  the  worst 
of  misfortunes,  she  reflected,  and  this  feel- 
ing, growing  upon  her,  prevented  her  day 
after  day  from  confiding  in  her  father. 
When  he  had  recovered  his  strength  suf- 
ficiently to  walk  among  the  hills  (she  told 
herself)  then  she  would  inform  him  of  her 
good  fortune;  and  even  then  he  must  be 
pledged  to  keep  his  own  counsel. 

At  last  the  time  came;  the  girl  invited  her 
father  to  walk  with  her  upon  the  hills  to 
gather  wild  flowers. 

"We  will  go  first  into  the  valley  by  way  of 
the  trail,  Father,  and  then  come  home  an- 
other way.  There  are  many  beautiful  blos- 
soms and  mosses,  and  we  will  take  our  tin 
cup  and  lunch  along  with  us,"  said  Eyllen 
brightly  as  she  made  ready  for  the  tramp. 

"Anywhere  you  say,  Eyllen,  only  let  it 
not  be  too  far  for  my  feet  to  travel,"  re- 
plied the  man  indulgently,  as  he  watched 
her,  well  pleased  with  the  grace  of  her  move- 
ments. 

"When  we  are  tired  we  will  sit  and  rest  in 

the  sunshine.     See!     Here  is  buttermilk  the 

priest's  housekeeper  has  sent  you.     I  will 

carry  a  bottleful  to  refresh  you  when  thirsty. 

245 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

They  then  trudged  off  among  the  hills.  A 
few  short  walks  Michaelovitz  had  already 
taken  with  his  friend  and  good  supporter  at 
his  arm,  but  who  was  today  ,away  in  his  boat 
on  the  water,  and  he  now  leaned  upon  the 
stock  he  carried  in  his  right  hand. 

For  a  time  Eyllen  walked  by  her  father's 
side,  carrying  her  basket  of  luncheon,  but  as 
the  trail  narrowed  she  led  the  way,  restrain- 
ing her  haste  as  best  she  could  (for  she  was 
impatient  to  be  at  her  ledges)  lest  she  should 
tire  her  father  before  their  walk  was  ended. 

Several  times  they  halted  to  rest.  As  yet 
her  father  saw  no  reason  for  hurrying.  To 
loiter,  to  rest  upon  the  hillside  and  chat  in 
the  sunshine  was  what  he  liked;  and  here 
was  his  daughter  fleet-footed  and  strong,  al- 
most hurriedly  leading  him  far  into  the  val- 
ley between  the  hills  as  though  bent  on  some 
mission. 

Where  could  she  be  going? 

"Are  you  sure  you  know  where  you  go, 
daughter?  And  that  you  will  not  get  us 
lost  in  the  mountains?  I  have  never  before 
been  so  far  from  the  settlement  in  this  direc- 
tion, and  we  cannot  hear  the  church  bell 
ring,  eh,  Eyllen?" 

246 


"No,  Father,  we  care  nothing  for  hear- 
ing the  church  bells  now,"  laughed  the  girl, 
"and  as  for  losing  ourselves,  it  is  impossible, 
as  I  have  many  times  rambled  over  and 
through  these  hills.  I  know  each  rock  as 
large  as  my  head,  and  I  will  show  you  some 
presently  much  larger  and  more  beautiful, 
as  you  are  sure  to  agree  with  me." 

"Rocks  are  not  beautiful,  child.  I  thought 
it  was  blossoms  you  wanted  to  show  me." 

"So  it  is,  but  on  our  return.  We  have 
reached  the  place  I  wanted  to  show  you, 
Father.  Sit  upon  this  mound  while  I  fetch 
a  cup  of  water  from  the  spring,"  and  the  girl 
ran  a  few  steps  farther. 

Returning  with  the  water  she  said  brisk- 
ly, "now  we  will  eat  our  lunch  while  we  rest 
and  talk,  for  I  have  a  little  story  to  tell  you 
in  the  meantime,"  and  the  hands  at  the 
basket  trembled  a  trifle. 

A  cloth  was  spread  upon  the  ground,  and 
the  basket's  contents  turned  out  upon  it. 
There  was  the  bottle  of  buttermilk  which 
Eyllen  declared  she  would  not  carry  home 
again,  as  it  might  be  changed  into  butter  by 
that  time,  and  she  urged  her  father  to  drink 
it  and  eat  heartily. 

247 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

"But  the  story,  Eyllen,  the  story!  What 
is  it  you  will  tell  me?  I  doubt  not  'tis  some 
island-lover  business,  or  a  new  gown  you  will 
politely  ask  for  when  your  father's  appetite 
is  quieted,  as  is  the  way  of  many  keen  wo- 
men, eh,  little  girl?"  said  Michaelovitz  giv- 
ing his  daughter's  pink  right  ear  a  gentle 
tweak. 

"There  is  neither  new  gown  nor  lover  in 
it,  and  you  will  never  guess,  so  I  am  going  di- 
rectly to  tell  you,"  smiled  Eyllen.  "Do  you 
see  this  piece  of  pretty  rock,  Father?" 

"There  you  go  again  with  calling  rocks 
pretty.  But  stay!  What  is  this,  child?" 
Where  did  you  get  it?  Is  there  more?  Do 
you  know  what  it  is  that  sparkles?"  ques- 
tioned the  man  rapidly,  bending  forward 
toward  his  daughter. 

"Yes,  Father,  it  is  gold,  and  there  is  much 
more  of  it  where  that  comes  from.  I  have 
found  the  ledges." 

"You,  child?  You?  How  did  it  happen? 
Tell  me." 

Then  the  girl  proceeded  to  relate  her  ex- 
perience with  which  we  are  already  familiar; 
how  she  first  came  to  drink  at  the  spring, 
and  her  peculiar  sensations  which  were  at 
248 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

first  affrighting;  how  she  persisted  in  return- 
ing to  the  place  until  by  accident  she  discov- 
ered the  quartz  pieces  in  the  water;  her  fool- 
ish fears  of  a  water  witch,  including  her 
dream,  and  her  decision  to  wear  as  a  talis- 
man a  bit  of  the  gold  besprinkled  rock;  of 
her  hesitating  in  telling  her  father  her  secret 
for  fear  he  would  divulge  it  to  his  com- 
panion, young  Shismakoff,  at  the  same  time 
entreating  her  listener  to  keep  sacred  her 
confidence  for  fear  that  others  would  molest 
the  treasure-laden  ledges;  and  lastly,  inquir- 
ing if  he  would,  as  her  partner,  accept  one 
half  of  the  property  as  a  present. 

"May  the  blessed  saints  preserve  us!  my 
child,  what  is  this  you  are  saying?  Where 
are  the  ledges?  Where  are  they?"  and  the 
man  sprang  to  his  feet  in  excited  interest.  At 
that,  the  buttermilk  flask  rolled  away  down 
the  hillside  where  it  landed  against  the 
stones  below,  breaking  into  hundreds  of  fly- 
ing fragments.  The  lunch  basket,  too,  top- 
pled over,  with  the  contents,  luckily  being 
only  sandwiches  of  bread  and  butter;  and 
Eyllen,  as  excited  now  as  her  father,  ran 
lightly  down  the  path  to  the  spring  from 
which  she  had  filled  her  drinking  cup  a  few 
249 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

minutes  earlier. 

"Here  are  the  ledges,  Father,  here  they 
«tre  !  Come  and  see  for  yourself !"  pointing 
to  the  rocks  she  had  already  so  thoroughly 
investigated. 

The  man  quickly  followed.  He  was  weak 
and  weary  no  longer.  His  walking  stick  lay 
neglected  on  the  ground  beside  the  luncheon, 
and  he  had  forgotten  that  weariness  or  hun- 
ger were  possible.  Eagerly  he  examined  the 
formation,  the  quartz,  the  wall  rocks  and 
surroundings,  ejaculating  and  questioning 
Eyllen  in  the  meantime. 

She  replied  that  she  was  positive  no  one 
knew  of  her  interest  in  the  hillside,  as  she 
had  carefully  kept  concealed  her  destination 
when  walking  so  frequently  here.  All  pros- 
pecting had  been  done  by  herself,  and  now 
she  would  gladly  share  the  work,  worry,  and 
profits  with  him,  she  laughingly  avowed. 

Only  one  condition  would  she  rigidly  im- 
pose, and  that  was  that  Shismakoff  should 
be  kept  in  ignorance  of  their  good  fortune 
as  long  as  was  possible. 

At  this  her  father  arose  from  his  stooping 
position  among  the  rocks  and  looked  keenly 
at  Eyllen. 

250 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

"You  mistake  if  you  think  that  Shismakoff 
is  unable  to  keep  a  secret,"  said  he  earnestly. 
Then  seeing  Eyllen's  blushing  and  downcast 
countenance,  the  facts  began  to  take  shape  in 
his  brain. 

"Oh,  ho!  I  see  it!  Is  that  your  mean- 
ing ?  My  wit  is  not  the  keenest,  else  I  would 
sooner  have  caught  it.  Well,  well,  child, 
perhaps  you  are  right,  although  I  shall  sore- 
ly want  his  counsel  and  advice  in  this  mat- 
ter. I  promise  to  withhold  the  knowledge 
of  these  ledges  from  him  until  I  have  your 
permission  to  tell  it;  so  rest  easy,  and  fret 
not.  He  is  a  good  fellow,  and  I  fancy  will 
presently  remove  the  necessity  for  further 
secrecy  by  making  known  his  intentions  to 
your  father.  With  your  acceptance  of  his 
hand  there  need  be  only  confidence  between 
us." 

As  he  finished  speaking,  a  wave  of  senti- 
ment passed  over  him,  and  his  eyes  filled 
with  tears.  Approaching  his  daughter,  he 
took  her  hand  in  his  own,  drew  her  closer  to 
him  and  kissed  her.  "You  are  a  good  child, 
Eyllen,  and  very  like  your  mother.  It  is  a 
pity  she  cannot  be  with  us !  You  are  worthy 
of  a  good  husband,  and  he  will  be  one.  You 
251 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

will  have  great  happiness." 

Resuming  his  examination  of  the  rocks  he 
dropped  his  seriousness  and  remarked  in  a 
lighter  tone:  "That  he  is  a  poor  man  is  not 
important  now  that  you  will  have  riches 
yourself.  Should  both  possess  wealth  it 
would  be  too  much  of  good  luck,  and  one 
fortune  is  quite  sufficient." 

Eyllen  was  now  herself  once  more.  Tilt- 
ing her  head  backwards  she  measured  the 
sun  with  her  eyes. 

"It  is  time  we  returned  now,  Father,"  she 
said,  "for  we  will  have  flowers  to  gather  by 
handfuls.  There  is  no  such  thing  for  us  as 
reaching  home  empty  handed.  It  would  never 
do.  You  see  I  have  been  much  at  this  work, 
and  know  how  to  manage." 

"Right  you  are,  child,  we  will  do  so." 

"Here  is  your  walking  stick,  Father," 
holding  it  out  to  him. 

"Bah!  I  do  not  need  it!  I  am  now 
strong." 

"But,  Father,  please  use  the  stick,  because 
you  must  not  be  grown  strong  too  rapidly. 
It  may  cause  comment,  and  you  must  not 
excite  suspicion  of  our  good  fortune,  and 
why  we  came  here  today.  Leave  the  stick 
252 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

where  you  will  tomorrow,  but  take  it  with 
you  today."  she  urged  laughingly,  and  with 
eyes  twinkling. 

"To  be  sure, — to  be  sure.  I  forgot.  I 
will  not  expose  your  secret,  child;  have  no 
fear." 

With  that  they  turned  their  faces  toward 
home.  Flowers  nodded  gaily  on  all  sides, 
and  soon  replaced  the  luncheon  in  their  bas- 
ket. 

Mosses,  green  and  velvety,  sank  beneath 
the  pressure  of  each  foot-fall,  and  a  brood 
of  eaglets  tested  their  pinions  near  the  crag 
above  the  trail. 

Right  glad  was  Fedor  Michaelovitz  be- 
fore reaching  home  that  he  had  listened  to 
Eyllen  and  carried  his  walking  stick.  With- 
out its  support  he  would  have  found  much 
more  tedious  the  long  walk  from  the  moun- 
tains. 

A  hot  supper,  a  pipe  full  of  tobacco  and  a 
restful  evening,  however,  restored  him,  es- 
pecially as  Shismakoff  made  his  appearance 
all  spick  and  span  after  his  day's  work  on 
the  water.  The  recital  of  his  adventures  with 
a  school  of  whale  in  mid-ocean,  and  the  cap- 
ture of  one  of  them,  occupied  a  good  share  of 
253 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

the  evening.  Eyllen's  father  asked  many 
questions  relative  to  the  subject.  To  these 
were  supplemented  the  queries  of  the  young- 
ster, whose  large  dark  eyes  fairly  stood  out 
upon  his  cheeks  with  wonder  at  the  tale.  To 
say  that  the  boy's  admiration  for  Shisma- 
koff  was  thereafter  greatly  augmented  would 
be  speaking  much  too  mildly.  From  that 
day,  the  young  man  was  looked  upon  by  him 
as  a  hero  who  needed  only  a  following  of 
soldiers  to  make  him  a  real  general. 

In  this  way  the  evening  passed  with  slight 
reference  to  the  tramp  of  Eyllen  and  her 
father  in  the  mountains,  much  to  the  girl's 
satisfaction. 

Her  mind  was  now  relieved.  Work  upon 
her  baskets  was  again  taken  up,  and  per- 
severingly  done.  Michaelovitz,  with  walk- 
ing stick  in  hand,  tramped  among  the  hills 
alone  often,  considering  it  the  affair  of  no 
one  that  a  pick  and  shovel  did  honest  duty  in 
his  hands  during  the  day,  and  lay  secreted 
beneath  the  rocks  near  the  little  spring  when 
he  returned  to  his  cabin  at  night-fall.  If  his 
capacious  coat  pockets  contained  bread  slices 
in  the  morning,  it  was  empty  by  evening,  and 
his  hands  full  of  blossoms  then  quickly  paci- 
254 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

fied  the  children  he  met  in  the  village. 

At  times  Eyllen  accompanied  her  father. 
Then,  at  his  direction,  by  the  use  of  her  mys- 
terious instinct  for  minerals,  she  could  trace 
still  further  the  treasure-filled  ledges  from 
the  spring  or  ore  shute  where  her  initial  dis- 
covery had  been  made.  By  this  means,  sev- 
eral hundred  feet  of  gold-bearing  ledges 
were  located  and  staked  by  the  girl  and  her 
father,  whose  active  labor  in  the  open  air, 
along  with  a  brightened  future  and  more  en- 
couraging life  prospects,  soon  caused  the 
man  to  grow  strong  and  well  again.  Shis- 
makoff  and  Eyllen  became  more  fond  of  each 
other  day  by  day,  until  at  last  it  was  beyond 
his  patience  to  endure  uncertainty  longer, 
and  he  told  her  of  his  great  love,  begging  for 
a  response  in  the  form  of  a  promise  of  mar- 
riage. To  this  the  girl  replied  as  he  desired, 
taking  no  note  of  his  reference  to  a  lack  of 
exchequer,  and  that  he  must  go  away  from 
the  islands  in  order  to  make  money  more 
rapidly. 

A  few  days  afterwards,  Michaelovitz  in- 
vited the  young  man  to  join  himself  and 
daughter  in  a  ramble  to  the  hills.  Eyllen 
thought  it  was  no  harm  to  give  the  whales 

255 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

and  fishes  one  day  more  of  freedom,  she 
said,  and  his  boat  needed  caulking.  She  in- 
sisted that  the  boat  must  be  made  entirely 
seaworthy,  now  that  it  must  carry  her  future 
husband;  and  she  could  not  endure  the 
thought  of  his  life  being  in  danger. 

Upon  reaching  the  vicinity  of  the  spring 
in  the  ledges,  Michaelovitz  proposed  that 
they  rest  for  a  little  and  listen  to  a  story  which 
Eyllen  had  to  relate  to  them,  but  (with  a 
woman's  usual  perverseness)  when  they 
were  comfortably  seated  upon  the  grass  she 
refused  to  begin  it.  Would  she  finish  if  her 
father  began  it?  they  asked. 

No,  she  would  not  even  promise  to  finish. 
If  her  father  wished  the  story  to  be  told, 
then  he  must  tell  it,  she  declared  between 
laughing  and  blushing. 

The  old  man  needed  no  urging.  He  pro- 
ceeded to  relate  the  story  of  the  discovery 
of  her  gold  ledges.  Of  her  patiently  locat- 
ing the  ledges  in  the  face  of  the  fact  that  her 
strange  electric  instinct  for  minerals  gave 
her  real  suffering;  and  of  her  taking  him  into 
her  secret;  not  omitting  to  tell  of  the  wa- 
ter witch,  the  talisman,  and  the  dream,  as 
well  as  her  wish  that  Shismakoff  be  kept  in 
256 


EYLLEN'S  WATER  WITCH 

ignorance  to  the  last  moment.  It  was  now 
that  Michaelovitz  forced  his  daughter  to 
regret  that  she  had  not  herself  told  the  tale. 

He  did  not  spare  her  blushes.  On  the  con- 
trary he  bore  down  upon  the  finale  of  the 
narrative  with  all  the  vigor  of  a  surgeon 
performing  a  serious  duty,  adding  that  she 
had  had  her  wishes  in  the  matter  gratified, 
and  she  ought  to  be  satisfied  that  their  listen- 
er was  a  genuine  lover,  and  not  one  seeking 
a  wife  for  her  possessions. 

At  this  juncture  Eyllen's  poor  cheeks  could 
blush  no  longer.  Her  eyes  were  wet,  but 
her  lips  were  smiling;  and  Michaelovitz  be- 
took himself  to  the  path  which  led  to  the 
spring,  thus  giving  the  lovers  an  opportunity 
to  be  alone. 

Shismakoff  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"So  this  is  the  little  one  who  wears  the 
talisman!"  he  laughed.  "But  it  has  no  pow- 
er to  protect  you  from  witchcraft,  as  I  can 
honestly  testify.  See!  Here  in  me  is  the 
proof  of  my  story.  Have  you  not  bewitched 
me?"  his  strong  arms  moving  tenderly 
around  the  girl's  little  jacket,  while  he  cov- 
ered her  lips  with  kisses. 

"Give  the  talisman  to  me,  darling,  that  I 
257 


THE  TRAIL  OF  A  SOURDOUGH 

may  wear  it  until  your  love  shall  be  as  strong 
for  me  as  is  my  own  for  Eyllen !" 

Then  the  girl,  thinking  him  in  earnest, 
handed  it  to  her  lover  who  hung  it  about  his 
neck  beneath  his  waistcoat  next  to  his  heart. 
So  the  lovers  had  forgotten  the  ledges  and 
the  man  among  them,  and  thought  only  of 
their  love  and  each  other;  the  rocks,  gold- 
laden  though  they  were,  as  well  as  every- 
thing else,  being  then  of  secondary  import- 
ance. 


258 


\J    V 


